


Part 16 The Knowhere Redemption

by xxxRIPLEYxxx



Series: The Princes of Midgard [16]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Avenger Loki, Blood and Torture, Canon Divergence - Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Established Relationship, Forced Prostitution, Heavy Angst, Loki is goddam mess, M/M, Minor En Dwi Gast | Grandmaster/Loki, Multi, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Steve is a goddam mess, Temporary Character Death, Tony Is a Good Bro, Violent Sex, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:49:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 34,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25671610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxRIPLEYxxx/pseuds/xxxRIPLEYxxx
Summary: When the worst happens after Steve comes out to the world, it's up to Loki and Bucky to try to make it right. It’s a long, hard road for all of them.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Loki, James "Bucky" Barnes/Loki/Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Loki/Steve Rogers
Series: The Princes of Midgard [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469486
Comments: 51
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the one-year anniversary of when I began this series and I didn't have much idea what I was getting into, but I love these guys more than ever. 
> 
> More tags and summary coming, but I'm trying something new. The whole story is written, but I'm still tweaking the last couple of chapters, so I'll be posting a chapter every few days until it's all up, and I don't want to give it all away in the summary. 
> 
> Thank you again to Aivelin for his amazing art. Check out his Tumblr [here](http://aivelin.tumblr.com)

When it came time to leave the quiet comfort and beauty of the house in the Black Forest, they all took one last look around wistfully—especially Bucky, who mentioned he’d give a lot to move the bathtub back to New York.

“James, I knew you really liked it, but I had no idea how much. Maybe Steve would allow me to make some modifications to his, so you can enjoy it in New York as well,” Loki asked, glancing at Steve.

”Yeah? How ‘bout it, Steve? Magic bathtub?”

“Sure, why not? This one has some really good memories, but we can make more of those.”

He sighed and set his jaw in the way that Loki and Bucky both recognized as his “time to face the music” look.

“Ok, let’s go. We can’t hide out here forever.”

But, a small voice in Loki’s head wondered why not as they flashed back to Steve’s.

*****

It turned out they were each about equal parts right. About a third of the world thought their relationship was great, a third didn’t care, and a third believed the Wrath of God would descend upon America and that Armageddon was fast approaching because men were having sex with each other. Apparently, the fact that Steve had saved the world (repeatedly) didn’t matter. A significant portion of the “don’t cares” were so far removed from the events of the Battle of New York, the Sokovia Accords, and other superhero events that they didn’t even know who the three of them were.

So, it was the Wrath of God third that could present a problem, because a lot of those people lived in America. It wasn’t a big issue on either coast, but in much of the Southern and Midwestern U.S., so many people were so horrified by a gay Captain America that they actually held rallies to demand he change his name. It was on all the major news channels with exhausting regularity.

‘Captain America is a traitor to American values’

‘Captain America=Captain Queer’

‘No fag Captain America’

Those were all signs carried by the protesters, and Loki was incensed to the point of wanting to fireball the whole damn lot of them. Bucky was ready to personally take the protesters apart limb by limb, but Steve, as usual, kept the calmest head.

“Stop it, you two. Don’t be ridiculous. You know that would make us just as bad as they are.”

“May I at least turn their signs into snakes?” Loki asked, hopefully.

“No.”

“Rubber penises?”

“No.”

“Give them all an itchy rash, then...”

“No. Stop that.”

“You can do that?” asked Bucky, glancing at Loki with a raised eyebrow.

”Maybe. Ask Thor,” he responded with a sly grin.

“Well, on the plus side, at least they aren’t dwelling on the whole ‘war criminals’ thing.”

Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, it seems they’re ready to forgive murder and attempted world domination before forgiving...this...” Loki pointedly kissed Steve on the mouth and gestured with an open hand.

“I know it’s hard, but you have to give them time. Even with all the rumors about Buck and me all these years, it was still a shock for a lot of people. They’ll get over it eventually.”

He hoped. Maybe they wouldn’t, but if they didn’t, that was ok, too. He was still glad the secret was out, because he hadn’t realized how much it had been weighing on him until it wasn’t. He could only imagine how much Loki’s secrets about Thanos and Sylvie must have been similar—no, scratch that—way worse. Carrying around the aftermath of torture, rape, and an ex who would literally destroy a world to see you dead was way worse. And, Buck? Not only had he carried the same burden as Steve, but he’d also been through Hell with HYDRA, and he was still handling it okay. No, he could weather this and so could they, and he squared his shoulders and cracked his neck. Huh. He’d picked that up from Bucky without even knowing when it’d happened.

It had been three weeks since The Big Reveal, two weeks since Loki and Sylvie’s battle and subsequent imprisonment, and it seemed like every time they turned on the television it was either Steve’s coming-out statement or the Showdown in Central Park, as Loki and Sylvie’s war of magic was being called now.

Every time he saw it on TV, Loki had a churning mix of emotions wash over him. That was _two_ battles in this city that he’d been instrumental in, and both times were his doing—his fault. But, at least this time, no one else had died, so that was something, and it was less of a guilty twinge as time passed.It had helped that he’d been able to repair most of the damage to the park, too.

Cassandra had scheduled another fundraiser for the victims of LOKICON and had donated a substantial amount of her own money, as had Steve. Tony had kicked in a large donation as well, and Thor offered what little Asgardian gold he had left during their uncomfortably emotional reunion at Tony’s place.

“Brother! I’m sorry I missed your battle with the witch. I’ve heard tales already and songs are being sung in New Asgard. You must come visit and tell me the whole story soon—all of you!”

Thor gestured expansively toward Steve and James, then pulled Loki into a bear hug.

“Not a witch, Thor. You know she was my clone.”

Steve winced a little at Thor’s description of Sylvie as a witch, and hoped that was simply a clumsy attempt by Thor to avoid talking about who she really was, and not a stab at Wanda. Probably. That would be Thor’s style—try to avoid misstepping around Loki and end up making it worse. But, he and Bucky knew so little about the Asgardians’ previous life together, really, that neither of them wanted to jump into the middle of it and risk making things even more prickly. They’d spent enough time with Loki to know he’d talk about it whenever he was ready, but Thor had made a generous offer of gold and Steve was touched.

“Thank you, Thor, but I’m sure we’ll be in good shape without the gold, won’t we, Loki? Use it for New Asgard. You still have a lot to do there.”

“We do. And, thank you, Steve Rogers. The gold will be put to good use there, but I was obliged to offer. You’re my friends and shield-brothers, after all.”

*****

The fundraiser was a resounding success. Since, in the aftermath of LOKICON, Steve had come out to the world in the most dramatic way possible, the support from the LGBTQ community had been overwhelming. Celebrities like Laverne Cox, Jim Parsons, Angelina Jolie, Brad Pitt, and many others had pledged large donations and the tickets to hear Loki, Bucky and Steve speak had gone for a thousand dollars each. Cassandra was beside herself, crying uncontrollably as she thanked everyone for coming. They raised so much money they had cash to spare, and donated much of it to local youth shelters.

But, of course, there was the other side...a vocal minority of radical fundamentalists who picketed outside the convention center with signs saying things like ‘Death to Captain America,’ ‘Send Loki to Burn with Hela,’ and ‘Winter Soldier is Hell’s Soldier.’ Bucky actually liked that one quite a bit.

Steve tried to play it down, but they knew how much it really bothered him. To see these people—this country—to whom he’d given almost literally everything he had to give, treat him this way—it hurt. Growing up, he’d seen boys who were even suspected of being queer beaten up, bullied, and taunted nearly to the point of suicide. He’d seen The Imitation Game and knew the story of Alan Turing, the gay man who’d cracked the Nazi code and had still been subsequently treated as a criminal. But, being the optimist he was, he’d still believed his contributions to society would have outweighed any objection to his sexual orientation in most peoples’ minds. Well, he was almost right. _Most_ people didn’t care.

*****

Steve had always been able to maintain a low profile in his house in Brooklyn, mainly because he’d bought it all those years ago before Captain America was a really big thing. Back when he was doing tours with showgirls, he’d wanted a home to come back to, and Steven Rogers was not a terribly unusual name, so he’d quietly bought it. He’d harbored many a secret fantasy of bringing Bucky or Peggy home to it, although he’d known neither of those was likely to become a reality. After he’d woken up in the twenty-first century, he’d found out that Peggy had preserved it and made sure everything was paid on time, and to this day still wasn’t sure why. She’d even done a great many repairs and improvements when the place started to get old—one of the many reasons Peggy still had a place in his heart and always would. Every time he thought about it, it brought a lump to his throat and made his eyes suspiciously shiny and moist.

He’d always been careful not to draw attention to himself, and although a few neighbors knew who he really was, they respected his privacy and no one was leaking his address to the press. Not to mention, so many celebrities lived in New York that most of the residents just weren’t impressed. So, he’d been able to keep up his runs and been able to eat in little restaurants, go shopping, and all those parts of daily life that help maintain a sense of normalcy.

This morning, as was often the case, Bucky and Loki were still in bed when Steve was dressing for a run, and Bucky rolled over sleepily.

“Hey, be careful, ok? Keep your eyes open. I know you’ve been doing this for years, but, at least wear a hat and sunglasses.”

“Yeah, yeah...don’t you fret, Mama Buck, I’ll be careful. But, you _could_ come with me if you’re all that worried. Can’t have Lethal Weapon getting fat and lazy, you know.”

Loki opened an eye and half-smiled, dropping his voice into his low octave as he slung an arm around James’ waist.

“We _could_ go for a run, or...if you’re set on some vigorous physical activity, I can think of something else we could indulge in to get your heart rate up.”

“Um, yeah, wrestling, maybe. One of my favorite workouts, and we don’t even have to leave the house,” James suggested, nestling closer into Loki.

“Right. The last time we tried that we broke two lamps, a chair, and your one real pinky finger, if I remember correctly. I think I’m more about a leisurely jog through the city right now. You two have fun—and don’t break anything, including bones.”

“You know he can heal stuff, right?” asked Bucky.

“But, it still hurts when it happens, doesn’t it? You always were a glutton for punishment, though. Enjoy.”

“ _I_ was a glutton for punishment? Who was the runt that was always picking fights I had to bail him out of?”

Steve glanced over his shoulder as he walked out, tempted, but...no, he was already dressed and really felt like running, so he broke into a jog and put some distance between himself and the front door.

*****

“Just let me take a leak and brush my teeth and I’ll be good to go,” said James, rolling out of bed.

Loki waited for him finish, then did the same. When he stepped out of the bathroom, a giant weight crashed down on him from behind and pinned his arms to his sides, flinging him onto the bed and shoving his face into the mattress.

“Maybe if we just stay in bed, we won’t break anything. I know you reinforced it with magic, so it should be safe, right?”

“ _It_ might be safe, but _you’re_ not,” came Loki’s muffled voice, as he brute-muscled his way onto hands and knees with James’ weight on top of him.

He was perfectly happy to play rough first thing in the morning, and twisted his body around to face James, then tossed him hard off to the side. With a loud ‘whump,’ he bounced off the bed and onto the floor from the force I throw.

“I guess we’re off the bed, then,” Loki smirked, and threw himself down on top of James, grabbing his wrists and forcing his hands over his head.

“I guess we are. But, you are _so_ lucky I wouldn’t head-butt you and make a mess of that pretty face.”

Loki knew James was exceptionally flexible for a man with so much dense muscle, but even he was surprised when he bridged his hips upward, threw one leg across Loki’s shoulders, and rolled him into a headlock with his thighs.But, he wasn’t about to tap out and he hadn’t specifically promised to play fair, so he bit down on a deliciously meaty thigh at the same time his fingers sparked, igniting a patch of leg hair.

A satisfyingly startled yelp burst out of James and his thighs loosened enough for Loki to extract himself, grinning.

“Damnit. I _should’ve_ head-butted you, you cheater.”

“Oh, come on, James, you know who you’re playing with. Don’t be a whiner. But, all right, let’s call that a draw. Start from knees on the bed? I promise I’ll play fair this time.”

“Let me see your hands. No ‘fingers-crossed’ bullshit.”

Loki spread his hands in front of him as innocently as possible, then jumped onto the bed on his knees. Bucky couldn’t help but notice the light sheen of sweat on Loki’s forehead and chest, and the way his hands ran through his hair, pushing it back out of his face. Not to mention the v-cut of his groin and...shit...he took a deep breath, willing the beginning of his erection to go away before he jumped on the bed facing his very distracting opponent.

“On three. One, two, three.”

On three, Bucky launched himself at Loki, intending to knock him backwards and pin him to the bed, but Loki was too quick. He did a Matrix-style back bend and used both hands to propel Bucky’s momentum off the bed again, and he landed with a solid ‘thump.’

“Didn’t damage your arm, I hope?”

“Ha. I’ll show you my _arm_ ,”James grinned, and grabbed a handful of black hair, pulling Loki onto the floor, then holding him down by the throat with his metal hand.

“You act like a prick-tease, you’re gonna get treated like one,” he breathed into Loki’s ear.

“Why, James, whatever do you mean? It’s hardly my fault you find me irresistible. But, now you mention it, I can smell that _need_ on you. You think you can take me?” Loki asked, narrowing his eyes.

“I think you’ll do what I tell you, as long as this hand is on your throat. You can’t resist it, even after all this time...it still makes you want to suck my cock when I hold you down with it, doesn’t it?”

Well, damn...one glance between Loki’s legs gave _that_ away, but he was determined not to give in so easily this time.

“Make me, Sargent Barnes.”

Bucky was not known for being particularly neat and tidy, and he spotted his belt on the floor from when he’d undressed last night, right next to his pants. Keeping his hand on Loki’s neck, he squeezed lightly as he reached for the belt.

“Turn over. Hands behind your back.”

The low growl in James’ voice sent more blood straight to Loki’s dick, and he did what he was told, huffing unconvincingly in protest. Once his wrists were bound together with the belt, he was roughly jerked up to his knees and dragged over to the bed. 

“Stay on your knees and bend over the bed.”

Loki felt a small wave of anxiety wash over him and wondered briefly if he was about to have a PTSD-induced panic attack from similar treatment by the man who’d taken him captive. He’d thought he’d conquered that and that it was, if not _gone_ , at least pushed so far away as not to matter. An image of his wrists cuffed to cage bars flashed in front of him, but he forced his breathing to slow, not willing to let this ruin what should be fun. There was enough of a change in his breathing that James noticed, though.

“Loki? Color?”

Two deep breaths.

“Green. I’m all right.”

Bucky wasn’t one hundred percent sure that was true, but if Loki wanted to continue, he didn’t want to argue or it might come across as patronizing. So, he let it go and leaned in, whispering against Loki’s cheek.

“I’m gonna give you a little taste of what to expect if you don’t do what I tell you. When I say to suck my cock, there will be no hesitation, no defiance, no resistance. Am I clear?”

Loki had gotten control of his anxiety quickly and didn’t want to discourage this. This was a side of James that he didn’t see very often, and whatever had triggered it, he’d have to remember exactly how to do it again. The last time was in the kitchen pantry at Pepper’s gala, and he really didn’t want to wait that long again until next time.

“Yes, clear.”

Bucky found another belt in Steve’s drawer, folded it in half, and brought it down hard across Loki’s ass with his metal arm—twice.

“AH! OW! DAMN!” Loki yelped in surprise.

“Oh, good. I got your attention. That made a really nice mark,” Bucky observed with a little smirk before running his hand over the raised, red stripe and pulling Loki back upright by the hair.

His own dick was hard and he reached down to palm Loki’s. Good—his was, too—so he was on the right track. He sat down on the bed, spread his knees apart, and rested back on his elbows to watch.

“Now, suck it until I come, and if you do a good enough job, I’ll let you come, too.”

Loki felt a delicious shiver at James’ tone and looked him directly in the eyes.

“You like me this way, don’t you? At your mercy, doing what you tell me.”

“Sometimes. Right now, I wouldn’t have it any other way, so get to work.”

Acutely aware that he was not allowed use of his hands, he kept eye contact as he licked the entire thing up the shaft over and over, until he finally wrapped his mouth around the head. James’ head tilted back, his eyes closed, and his abs quivered slightly as Loki’s tongue worked its way around the ridge, teasing at the big vein underneath.

 _“Oh...God_... _damn_ , you’re good at that.”

“True, but then again, the artist is only as good as his subject, and your cock is a perfect canvas,” Loki whispered, lips red and shiny with saliva, right before he sucked the entire thing down in one move, hollowing his cheeks with suction.

He felt his own pre-cum dripping down as he sucked, and wondered what he’d do if James told him he hadn’t done a good enough job to merit his own orgasm. Hmm. He toyed with the idea of just stopping right now to see what would happen, but he wanted to come badly enough that he wouldn’t push it right now. When he held his breath and forced the thick length all the way to the back of his throat and swallowed around it, he knew James couldn’t hold out. He felt the contractions and the hot cum in his throat, swallowed it down without even tasting it, then pulled off, breathless and panting.

_“Ah, shit, Loki—Jesus.”_

_I dare you to say that wasn’t good enough, James._

He hadn’t said that out loud, because his throat felt a little rough, but he got the message across.

James had fallen flat on his back and was a little breathless and panting himself for a minute until he got his bearings. Then, he leaned down and unbuckled the belt from around Loki’s wrists.

“OK, you can come, now.”

Loki shook his arms out for a few seconds, then took himself in hand, and... _oh_...he was so hard and sensitive...even closer than he’d thought, already. With one hand behind him to support himself and his head thrown back, it only took about thirty seconds until he shot thick ribbons of cum all over his hand and body, and collapsed forward onto James’ thighs.

“Well...that was...quite something.”

He knelt there with his head in James’ lap for a few minutes, letting the residual waves of pleasure wash over him. Nothing in his thousand years of life had prepared him for this. Even when he’d believed he might one day sit on the throne of Asgard, he’d never imagined he could feel so...contented...so _happy_. And, now, to know Steve loved him, too? No one else in the Nine Realms could be this lucky, and the wait had been worth every minute of all those centuries. The Norns did indeed weave strange fates, and he stood and offered a hand to his handsome, powerful, perfect lover.

“I think we could use a shower and some breakfast, don’t you?”

James looked up at Loki, wondering what had precipitated this whole scenario. He wasn’t usually so set on being in control, but Loki really seemed to like it and that made him feel good. This man had been through more shit than even he and Steve had, and the knowledge that Loki trusted him enough to put himself at his mercy was...well, it meant a lot. He took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, the words spilling out almost unintentionally.

“God, I love you, Loki. So damn much.”

*****

Steve stopped to check the running app on his phone and found he’d already gone ten miles. It certainly hadn’t felt that far. He felt _good_ —energized—like a weight had been lifted, and he was _free_. Free of a secret he’d kept, sometimes from himself, for half his life. So, he decided to make this a long run like he hadn’t done in awhile, and texted Buck and Loki to let them know, so they wouldn’t worry.

_Feeling great. Going for long run. Hope you didn’t break anything. Love you._

When there was no response from either, he chuckled to himself. They were undoubtedly busy wrestling or _whatever_ they’d gotten up to and they’d get the message as soon as they were done. 

He was at the edge of Central Park when he decided to do six or seven laps around it and enjoy the scenery, and then he should make it back early enough they could go out for a late breakfast. That would be nice—the three of them able to go out in public together for a meal—something so simple, and yet seemingly impossible not very long ago. He’d have to thank Pepper later for the whole cologne idea, because that’s what had gotten them here. How crazy was that?

He broke into a run and paced himself to the music. He’d learned to appreciate some of the modern electronic music calledHouse and Trance, because if he double-timed his steps, it gave him a good beat to run to. He mentally shook his head at that—well, there wasn’t much _he’d_ grown up with that he could do that to, and he was trying to expand his musical tastes. So, he started his new running playlist, lost himself in the bass and the beat, and focused on his breathing. One of Tony’s friends had recommended a band called Black Veil Brides, and he’d have to check them out, too. Music was sure as hell a lot different these days, but it was kind of cool, too.

His mind was racing with all the things he wanted to do, now that they could do them without having to hide or cover their tracks. They could travel, see the Amazon Rain Forest, Rome, Greece, or lay on their backs in the Sonora Desert and stargaze. Maybe Loki could even take them to some other realm like, what was it...Vanaheim?...that he’d said was so beautiful. Not back to Sakaar, though, and his nose wrinkled at the thought. Not exactly a great spot to vacation and enjoy life, and it was time to do some of that. He’d devoted so much of himself to being the man Dr. Erskine had believed he was, and now...now, he could just be himself, too.

After the sixth lap, he realized the same two people had been standing in the same place every time he’d passed them—a man and a woman—and they’d waved at him every time he went by. He was close enough to being done that he could stop now, say hello, then make the ten-mile run back home in plenty of time for breakfast. He wasn’t normally big on signing autographs or taking selfies (that seemed a little too narcissistic), but right now he was glad of those supporters and wanted to thank them.

When he double-tapped his air bud to pause the music, slowed down and walked toward them, they took the cue and walked his way. Odd, though...he hadn’t really noticed before, but why were they wearing running jackets? It was June. When he was about ten feet away from them, the alarm in his head went off—neither of them pulled their hands out of their jacket pockets and neither was smiling now. This was apparently going to be some sort of confrontation, so he stopped— better to just turn and leave instead of subjecting himself to verbal abuse or getting into an argument.

The last thing Steve heard before he was knocked to the ground was a series of sound-suppressed gunshots that he instinctively identified and counted from years of training and habit—seven of them, probably nine millimeter, and every one slammed into him like Thor’s hammer. He felt each one go deep in his chest, and the shocking realization hit him that he was about to die.

His body jerked with every shot, unable to do anything except react to the impacts, but he didn’t go down until the seventh. Flat on his back, not able to move or breathe, eyes wide in surprise, he heard his heart beat speed up and then slow as his blood spurted into the grass. He stared up into the clear, blue sky knowing it was the last thing he’d ever see, and what he felt more than anything was...sadness. So, he kept his eyes open as long as he could, until three more shots slammed into him, and the last thought that clawed through the searing pain before the blackness closed in around his vision was—

_No._

_Please._

_Not now._

_Buck._

_Loki._

_I’m sorry._

_I’m sor—_

_*****_

They’d showered and were debating about whether or not to wait for Steve to fix breakfast when Bucky saw the text.

“Oh. He decided to go on a long run. There’s no telling how long that’ll be, so I don’t think we should wait. I’ll make waffles, though, so we can save him a stack. He eats like a horse after a run like that.”

But, when Steve still hadn’t come back by noon, they started to worry, and Loki tried both the tracking spell and the binding. There was nothing there—it was as if they were both just _gone_ , and panic welled up inside him.

“James, where would he have gone? Central Park?”

“Yeah, probably. The circuit around it is one of his favorite routes. Let’s go.”

Just as they were about to teleport away, both their phones rang at the same time, and a shiver of cold ran down Loki’s spine. They locked eyes when Tony’s icon appeared on James’ phone and he picked up.

“Tony?”

Bucky’s voice was barely a whisper, and Loki didn’t even speak.

But, maybe it wasn’t about Steve. Something else—Lethal Weapon was being called out. That had to be it. Please let that be it.

“I need both of you here right away. My office.”

Bucky swallowed hard and nodded, and Loki gripped his elbow as they flashed away into Tony’s office.

One look at Tony confirmed the worst. There was no doubt now, seeing his red-rimmed eyes and the tears running down his cheeks, what he was about to tell them. Loki shook his head “no” and told himself if he didn’t hear the words, it wasn’t real. The waffles were churning in his gut and threatening to come back up, and Bucky was frozen to the spot, afraid to move for fear his world would shatter if he so much as took a breath.

“It’s Steve. There’s no easy way to say this. He’s—he was shot. Ten times. He’s...”

Tony choked on the word and could barely speak it—

“...he’s...dead—at the scene—before anyone could get to him.”

Bucky stumbled to Loki and fell into his arms, not able to hold himself up, his face buried in Loki’s shoulder. They sank to the carpet together, and Loki found himself numbly stroking James’ hair, trying to understand. He _couldn’t_ understand, though. Not Steve. He was the best of them—the _good_ one. The one who deserved, more than either of _them_ , to be happy.

“How?” was all Loki could get out.

“He was running laps around Central Park—a few people saw him slow down and walk toward a couple—a man and a woman—and they shot him. They fucking _shot_ him. No one saw the guns, but from the sound of it, they were using suppressors. By the time anyone realized what was happening, they were gone, and Steve was...on the ground.”

“Why?”

But, Loki knew the answer to that question already. He and James had known...and Steve had trusted that people would come to accept them. Steve’s faith in people had finally killed him, but he and James should have known better. Should have been there to stop it. Should have protected him. If Loki had been there, he could’ve stepped in front of Steve and _he_ would’ve survived ten shots. Probably. Either way, Steve would be alive.

“We don’t know why for certain, but...the jackets they were wearing had fish symbols on the backs.”

“Fish? What does that mean?” Loki asked, confused.

“It means he was _murdere_ d in cold blood for loving a man— _us_ ,” Bucky spat the words out like they were burning his throat.

“You remember asking me if we were raised in ‘Christian mysticism?’ Well, this is the worst of it. The ones who believe God wants us dead.”

Yes, he remembered seeing those fish on some of the signs the protesters had been carrying, but hadn’t made the connection.

“Where...where is he? I need to see him,” Bucky asked, and Loki nodded.

“Yes. I have to be...certain.”

Tony stared at the floor for a moment before speaking, but then quickly seemed to make a decision.

“Look, I know I’m supposed to tell you not to—that it won’t help—that it’ll just make it worse. It probably will, but I know you have to do it. I’ll come with you, if you want. To the morgue.”

“No. This is something we need to do alone—together,” Bucky said decisively, looking up at Loki.

“Together,” Loki whispered, squeezing James’ shoulder as he waited for Tony to give him an address.

Tony had already told the morgue that Loki Odinson and James Barnes would probably be down to see Steve Rogers, and there were two attendants waiting at the front door when they arrived. The startled expressions on the attendants’ faces when they abruptly appeared in a green flash were quickly replaced with well-practiced calm and sympathy, and in this particular case, with tears. In fact, every person they encountered on their way down had been crying.

_Well, at least not everyone wanted him dead, then. Not that it matters now._

It seemed like miles, that walk. Shuffling like zombies, holding each other up, through the maze of hallways that reminded Loki of the dungeons of Asgard. If he _had_ died on the Dark World, Steve would never have gotten involved with him and he’d still be alive.

_No. You can’t think like that. James needs you. It’s even worse for him._

Finally, they were there, standing in front of a three-feet by three-feet stainless steel door, and Bucky couldn’t move. If he moved, someone would open this door and he’d have to face the thing he’d feared most all these years—that Steve had been taken from him. Loki placed his hands softly on James’ shoulders and turned him around, pulling him into a gentle embrace.

“It’s his birthday next month...Fourth of July, you know? I know birthdays don’t mean much to Asgardians, but...I was gonna ask you to help me surprise him with something magic.”

The attendant with “DeWayne” on his name tag opened the door and pulled the drawer out. Loki’s heart was about to pound out of his chest, because his mind hadn’t been able to let go of the sliver of hope that this might be some other mage’s work—something not real, put there to fool them, like one of his clones.

But, when DeWayne pulled back the sheet, there was no magic there. No other’s and not his—no spark of his tracking spell or the binding now, and he knew this was real and Steve was truly dead. But, his face...that beloved face...was undamaged, peaceful, and so beautiful in its cold, white stillness; with the chiseled features of a Greek statue and a lock of hair down over his forehead as it often was in life.

Loki leaned down to kiss the ice-blue lips that had been so pink and lush, and pressed his cheek against Steve’s pale one before stepping back and steeling himself to support James. Their Captain had lost so much blood that his skin was blue-white and he looked almost like a Frost Giant now. Despair and agony tightened their grip around his heart, and he could only imagine what James was feeling.

“They—they didn’t clean him up. There’s still...so much blood. So much _blood_ , Loki...”

James’ voice was harsh, bordering on hysteria, and DeWayne cleared his throat and spoke up gently.

“They just finished with all the photos. We haven’t had time to clean the blood off, yet. I’m sorry. You got here so quickly.”

“I’ll do it. I can’t...I can’t leave him like this. Help me clean him up, Loki.”

Loki sobbed and pulled James to his chest, his tears running down into the soft, brown hair.

“I’ll do it, James. Let me do it, all right?”

Bucky’s glazed eyes blinked a few times, then he realized what Loki meant, and nodded. Loki laid hands flat on Steve’s torso and bowed his head, trying to gather himself enough to do this. Such a simple little clean-up spell he’d known since childhood, and he could barely think how to cast it. But, in a few moments, the blood was gone and Loki’s tears wet Steve’s chest instead of blood.

Bucky took the cold face between his hands, pressing his lips to forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids, then broke down sobbing uncontrollably again.

“Those goddam eyelashes. Girls used to say they’d seen dicks shorter than those eyelashes,” and he choked back a frantic laugh at that.

“Where are his things? Loki asked.

“In the police evidence room. They won’t be released until after the investigation, but...”

DeWayne paused a moment, hesitating.

“I’m not really supposed to talk about that stuff, but I know one of the CSI people. She was pretty broken up. She told me the song he was listening to when he was...when he paused the music...if you want to know.”

Bucky nodded tentatively. That would at least be _something_ they could take with them.

“It was ‘Invincible,’ by Jose Amnesia, Original Mix. I…I’ll write it down for you. I didn’t know the song, but I found it on YouTube. Not exactly what I would’ve expected Captain America to be listening to.”

He smiled softly, gazing at Steve’s face with tears on his cheeks.

“And, just so you know…I idolized him. I was fourteen when he came back and I had posters all over my room. I even met him once, and he smiled and shook my hand—me—just some random teenager. He was always Captain America to me and he always will be. The way he kept his cool on that TV interview was every bit as amazing as some of the other stuff he did. I’m so sorry for your loss—America’s loss.”

He turned away and Loki choked back another sob.

“Thank you.”

“Did they find the rounds—the bullets—yet?”

“There were two that hit his sternum and didn’t penetrate it. The bone was too dense, and they were collected at the scene by the CSI team. The rest are still there...they won’t be removed until the autopsy.”

“Autopsy? When?” Loki asked.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“Then, we’ll be waiting for the ballistics and—there are cameras all over Central Park. They must have gotten _something_. We’ll find those fuckers and tear them to pieces,” James said through clenched teeth, and Loki knew he wasn’t speaking figuratively.

It seemed to give James something to focus on, though, and he was able to pull himself together enough to lean down for one last, lingering kiss on the cold, blue lips. Then, he straightened and squared his shoulders.

“Okay, I’m ready if you are, Loki.”

Loki didn’t trust his voice, so he nodded at DeWayne and took Bucky’s hand as they flashed home.

Home. Steve’s home.

“Goddammit, Loki, I would give my right arm to get shitty drunk right now. Did we bring any of that Asgardian stuff back here?”

“Yes. It’s in the refrigerator on the back porch. I’ll get it.”

By the time they were finished crying, making Irish toasts and Viking toasts, they’d gone through an entire case, and they were both drunk. But, instead of helping them cope, it just made them more and more miserable.

“The very last thing I said to him was to remind him he was a runt who always had to be bailed out. I didn’t even say good-bye.”

He pulled out his phone and brought up Steve’s last text, just staring at it.

_Love you._

When he finally looked up, he saw Loki had been reading it, too, and he pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket.

"Hey, Google, play [Invincible by Jose Amnesia. Original Mix."](https://youtu.be/TejWdhex95s)

The irony of the lyrics and the haunting voice…it was almost too much to stand, but they listened to it over and over, until Loki finally told Google to stop.

“I’m sorry, James, I just...I just...”

“I know. It’s ok. You gonna make it? If you weren’t here, I don’t know...I don’t know what I’d do. If Steve hadn’t been there when we thought you were dead, I’m not sure I’d even be here now. It felt like half my heart had been ripped out, and this is no different.”

Loki stared at the ceiling, tears dripping down his temples into his hair, and his voice cracked.

“I was...trying to put together the timeline. At the moment he was murdered, we were in the shower. And, we could have been with him, could have protected him, but...I was more interested in sucking your dick than thinking about what he might’ve been risking going out by himself. We should have been there _. I_ should have been there.”

“Stop...don’t do that. That risk was always there the whole time he was Captain America and he wasn’t about to stop living his life because of a few assholes. He had plenty of enemies before this and he always knew something like this could happen. It’s not your fault.It’s _their_ fault—the people who murdered him. And, once we find out who they are...I fucking promise you I’ll be the old Winter Soldier one more time—I’ll execute those bastards without a speck of remorse. All of them—not just the two that pulled the trigger—every last fucking one of them.”

“And, I’ll be right there at your side, James. Lethal Weapon doing what it does best,” Loki whispered grimly, and was not at all shocked to realize they were both still killers at heart.

Steve would be disappointed, but Steve’s good heart got him murdered.

“You know we’ll be criminals again after that. It’ll be just the two of us on the run...”

“What’s to keep us here now that Steve’s gone? We can go to Vanaheim or Knowhere, or even to Sakaar, once we’ve done...what needs to be done. No one can stop us. Not even Tony.”

“Yeah...I like that plan—just be done with this whole miserable fucking planet.”

They finally drifted off into an uneasy, exhausted sleep, arms and legs wrapped around each other. But, something was tugging at Loki’s mind, something that kept rousing him from sleep into a jerky semi-consciousness.

_Thanos._

_Steve._

_Thanos._

_He resurrected me—why not Steve? He’d do it for me. I’m a coward for even hesitating._

A stab of fear cut through him so deeply that he shivered uncontrollably and gripped James even tighter. Sleep evaded him the rest of the night as his brain rolled through the list of possible scenarios and outcomes. All of them ended with him being ripped apart again, but more slowly and painfully than ever, with Thanos mocking him the whole time for being a sentimental fool.

The next morning, Bucky woke to Loki’s arm around his waist and his hand automatically stretched out to the other side, reaching for Steve.

_Oh, God. It was real. Not a nightmare._

He sat up in bed, blinking back into reality, and saw Loki was wide awake. He took in the dark circles around his eyes, the wrinkled clothes, and the nearly-imperceptible tremor in his hands.

“Have you been up all night? You look like shit.”

“Most of it, yes. I need to talk to you. Would you like a cup of coffee? I made some earlier.”

“Yeah, that would be nice. Thanks.”

Loki brought him a steaming cup and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to swallow a couple of sips before speaking.

“Thanos. I think I can find him and he can resurrect Steve.”

He nearly choked on his coffee, but he knew Loki was dead serious.

“Absolutely not. He’ll _torture_ you and then he’ll _kill_ you, and even if he’d actually bring Steve back in exchange for your life, Steve would never forgive me for letting you do it. It would kill him all over again.”

He took a few more sips of coffee as understanding dawned on him.

“You’ve been awake all night thinking about this—planning how to make it happen—haven’t you? For fuck’s sake, is _suicide_ all you can come up with? What about Grandmaster? At least he likes us. Likes you, anyway.”

Loki blinked, startled. _Grandmaster_. He’d been so focused on punishing himself with Thanos that he’d forgotten all about En Dwi Gast, and he grasped at that straw of hope.

“I’m not certain, but it’s possible. He has powers far beyond anything I’ve ever known—probably beyond what Thanos can do. We need to stop that autopsy and get Steve out of there. How do we do that?”

“For a murder investigation? I don’t know, but...Steve and I, when I came back and neither of us had any family left, we made an agreement—had legal papers drawn up and everything—Powers of Attorney and Living Wills, so no one else could have control if anything happened to either of us. Those papers are still here in his safe, I think.”

“Find them, then. We’re taking Steve to Sakaar.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I’ve posted a fic in chapters. I would really love to hear some feedback, and I’ll be happy with anything you have to say, I promise!


	2. Chapter 2

They would’ve taken him with or without legal papers, of course. No one would’ve been able to stop them, now they knew where he was, but it was good to stay within the law, since they weren’t going on a murder spree, yet. So, Bucky called Tony to let him know.

“You’re what, now? Taking Steve to get resurrected? Is that even possible?”

“Well, you know Thanos resurrected Loki, so why not? We’re taking him to Sakaar to get Grandmaster to do it.”

There was silence on the line for a few moments, then—

“So, what the hell are you waiting for? Go! I’ll handle whatever comes up at this end. And, Barnes...good luck. Bring him back alive. All of you come back alive and we’ll find those bastards who shot him.”

“You’ve got it, Tony.”

*****

The morgue didn’t seem nearly as awful this time because they had a purpose. Still, Bucky had to steel himself when DeWayne opened the drawer, and Loki wasn’t sure what to expect. He’d never paid attention to what happens to dead humans after they’d been in cold storage—never had any reason to—but this...was difficult. Steve still had that pale, ethereal, god-like beauty that made Loki’s heart hurt, and it was eerie—like he could wake up any second and be a Frost Giant version of himself, except for the eight holes in his torso.

DeWayne could see the sense of purpose, the undercurrent of excitement—so different from the hopeless despair of yesterday.

“You’re taking him somewhere to do magic stuff, aren’t you? Magic stuff that can maybe bring him back to life?” DeWayne whispered, with equal parts hope and awe in his voice.

He knew Asgard didn’t exist anymore, but everyone knew now there were other worlds and Loki was a magic guy, after all. New York had been reminded very recently just how magic Loki really was. He’d watched the videos of the Showdown in Central Park over and over.

“We’re not taking ‘maybe’ for an answer, man. Loki’s gonna make it happen. Next time we see you it’ll be all three of us,” Bucky assured him.

Loki put one hand on Steve’s shoulder and the other on James’ arm, and transported them into the Dynasty, the ship they’d used to get back from Sakaar. Just as when they’d left there, he didn’t want to chance using the Tesseract for all three of them to go that distance, so they’d need to fly through the wormhole—the Nine Realms side of the Devil’s Anus. Besides, who knew? They might need a ship at some point during all this.

The wormhole wasn’t exactly close to Earth, so they had about a week’s travel time to get there, and Loki used it to teach James more about flying the ship. If something happened to him that made him incapable of doing it, James would need to know how.

James had already given this whole mission some thought, though, and the harsh, objective reality was apparent. If they didn’t get Steve back and Loki were to die there, he had no interest in going back at all. There was nothing for him on Earth without one of them, and he’d rather just stay on Sakaar and fight in the arena until the odds caught up with him. At least he’d go out in a blaze of glory. But, he couldn’t tell Loki that, so he dove into the lessons with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He’d learned a few things on the trip back to Earth the first time, so he wasn’t a completely blank slate.

And, he had other things to think about, too, one of them being Steve’s and his shared fear of going into the ice again. Loki had used magic to keep Steve’s body in a semi-frozen state, and he was having some emotional difficulty with that.

“God, Loki, I know you needed to do it, but I can’t help but think how much he’d hate this—being back in the ice. _I_ hate it. I wish there was some other way.”

“I know, James. But, if we succeed, he won’t remember this, anyway, and I’ll happily listen to him complain about it later.”

“We’ll succeed. This _will_ work—it has to.”

*****

Once they popped out of the Devil’s Anus at Sakaar, Loki let the port authorities know who he was, which got them immediate clearance to land. They readied themselves for the fact that this was going to be weird and probably tricky, but there was no way around it.

“So...Loki...I know you have a kinky relationship with this guy. But, you do whatever you goddam have to to get this done, and I will, too. I don’t care if that means fightingin the arena or being his fuck-boy, I’ll do it, ok? Whatever he wants. I don’t give a shit about my pride or yours, or who I have to fuck or kill, as long as we get Steve back.”

“You won’t have to kill anyone or be a ‘fuck-boy,’ but whatever I do, follow my lead. He likes to be dominated and humiliated, and he likes to role-play, so if that’s where this goes, be sure to stay in character. You’re the dark and dangerous one. Be that when it’s just the three of us, but if there’s anyone with him, he’s the Grandmaster again and you have to treat him as such.”

The idea of being thrown into a sexually-charged situation right now was so unappealing it almost made Loki’s stomach cramp, but if that’s what was necessary, that’s what they’d do.

_But, damn, I already almost screwed this up. I should’ve had this conversation with James when we had more time._

“Yeah, ok. Dark, dangerous, dominate, humiliate. I doubt he could surprise me much, based on what you’ve already told us.”

_Ok, I’ve got this. Stay in character. This has to go well._

They descended the ship’s ramp and were met by an escort, because this was an unexpected visit and he’d wanted to give Grandmaster plenty of time to get ready. It wouldn’t do to surprise him twice in a row by teleporting into his bedroom unannounced.

So, they were led in dramatic procession directly to Grandmaster’s personal chambers, and Loki heaved a little sigh of relief, because this meant he was still in Gast’s favor. One couldn’t assume anything where he was concerned.

*****

Grandmaster’s face lit up when he saw Loki, and Loki was actually a tiny bit touched when he was warmly embraced.

“My handsome boy! How good of you to visit so soon again.”

Then, he looked past Loki at James and seemed surprised.

“And, you brought Scary Boy with you. Where’s the one with all the muscles? I thought the three of you were inseparable.”

“Normally, yes, but he’s the reason for the visit, other than wanting to see you, of course. Could we all sit and talk for awhile?”

“That would be lovely. I’ll order up something to eat, and we can have a nice dinner while we catch up.”

He waved one of the entourage over and spoke to him in a stage whisper.

“Nothing too elaborate, but a lot of it. I know how much these boys eat. Oh, and two bottles of that special Ass-guardian vodka we had made for my gorgeous pet, here.”

He winked at Loki and shooed the rest of the entourage out the door.

“Your rooms are just as you left them. Why don’t you two go freshen up and dinner should be here whenever you’re ready.”

Loki nodded and led the way, ushering James into the elaborate rooms Grandmaster had had remodeled for him.

“Damn, Loki. He’s so hot for you, I’m surprised he didn’t jump you right on the spot,” he teased.

“Yes, well...we’ll see how much persuasion he needs. I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what a devious bastard he is. How about a nice, hot shower? It’s not a magic bathtub, but there’s plenty of room for both of us, and I’d like the company if you would.”

Grandmaster was true to his word and as soon as they’d showered and changed clothes, dinner had arrived. Loki had decided to dress in one of the hand-tailored Asgardian-style outfits that had been left clean and hanging in his closet. He knew Gast loved him in that, and they’d brought one of his favorite outfits for James—black jeans with stitching that matched the pattern on his arm, heavy black boots, and a tailored blue shirt that matched his eyes. He rolled the sleeves up above the elbows so part of his metal arm showed and pulled a few strands of hair over his eyes.

“You look stunning. Are you ready for the performance of your life?”

James flashed his most winning evil smile and kissed Loki.

“I was born ready. Let’s go.”

Grandmaster was already seated at the table, but when they stepped into the room, he pushed away and stood up, eyes darkening at the sight.

 _“Oh, my_...you boys look...splendid...simply splendid.”

*****

“...so, as I understand this, you and Scary Boy are in need of your Captain in order to maintain your power on Earth?”

“It would be extremely helpful if we had him back. His image as ‘The Good One’ helps smooth and maintain a balance in the public’s perception of us. We need him and we’re prepared to offer...things you might like in exchange.”

Loki’s gaze met Gast’s as he coyly bowed his head and looked up through half-lidded eyes.

“Well, then. Yes, I can help you. And, just to be clear, to which ‘things’ are you referring? I have more than enough sycophants who are capable of doing most things I ask.”

“Most things, I’m sure, but not all.”

He leaned in to whisper in Gast’s ear, voice low, and ran a hand up the inside of his thigh.

“You know what _I_ do for you. And, this man? He’s one of the most dangerous people on Earth and he loves to play with cute little masochists like you. Would you like that? Your handsome boy watching you being treated the way you deserve? But, not, of course, until you’ve undressed us both with your mouth and then given us massages with that scented oil. I’ve missed that.”

Gast motioned to the guard at the door and waved his hand.

“Go. Leave us and make sure we’re not bothered until morning.”

Loki and James locked eyes and nodded at each other subtly. Apparently, they had a deal. As soon as the guard closed the door, Loki’s demeanor changed and his voice took on the haughty edge of the demanding Prince.

“Perfect. Now, drinks for both of us and find that lavender oil I like.”

When Gast started to walk away to do what he was told, Loki stepped in front of him.

“What do you think you’re doing? Are you asking for punishment already?”

“I—I’m sorry, sir. I forgot myself. It’s—it’s been too long,” he stuttered, then dropped to his knees and poured them each a drink before crawling away toward a cabinet across the room.

James’ eyes widened and he mouthed words silently at Loki.

_“What the fuck is happening?”_

Loki quietly made the ‘watch’ sign with index and middle fingers pointing to his eyes, and continued.

“James, why don’t you have a seat on the bed and enjoy your drink while our slave takes care of me, and then it’ll be your turn. I look forward to watching him undress you.”

Loki appeared a little annoyed and impatient as the slave stripped down first and then undressed him using only his mouth, which had been one of Gast’s favorite activities. When he’d gotten down to only the leather breeches, James’ breath hitched a little and his cock twitched, taking in the view of Loki with Gast on his knees, pulling the lacings open with his teeth. He’d always been attracted to the regal, haughty persona Loki did so well, even before he’d known it was just one of his many facets.

_Well, shit. Didn’t expect that. But, it’s in character, right?_

So, he leaned back and just watched the show. When Loki was completely nude, it made his dick twitch even more to see him card his hand through the other man’s hair, and damn...he was using _that_ _voice_. Even now, as fucked up six ways from Sunday as this situation was, it still did things to him.

“Adequately done, slave. I’m willing to forgive your slowness this time, since you’re out of practice and you know how much I like seeing you on your knees. Now go undress our Soldier and I’m sure I don’t need to remind you to do whatever he tells you.”

Loki lay down and got comfortable while James stayed seated on the bed. He couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the slave struggle with the shirt buttons, and after several awkward minutes, decided to dive right into this ridiculous scenario.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. What’s taking you so long? Use your hands or we’ll be here all night.”

He slammed the slave backwards with a boot to the chest, and Loki held his breath for a moment. He’d rarely done anything that physical, mostly using commands and demeaning tasks. He didn’t really know how Gast would react to it from someone else, but he’d told James to stay in character and it seemed to be working.

Once the shirt was off and Gast got a close look at the arm and the body attached to it, he could barely restrain himself. His pupils were blown wide and his hands trembled as he removed the boots and jeans.

“Maybe if I like the massage, I’ll let you touch my arm, or maybe it’ll touch you. We’ll see how it goes. Now, get busy.”

“Yes, sir.”

He scrambled up off the floor and waited until James situated himself spread out on his belly next to Loki, and they pulled the sheet up to their waists.

They were mostly quiet until both their massages were finished, then Loki ordered Gast to refill their drinks and took the opportunity to speak quietly.

“I know this is very unsettling, but we’re doing fine. I think he’ll come through.”

“Maybe, but I’m not taking any chances. You remember that first night in the playroom when you gave me a little magical energy to get going again? I need you to do that now, so I can finish this.”

Loki nodded and touched James’ arm, then the slave was back with their drinks. James purposely bumped Gast’s hand, spilling the drink, and jumped to his feet.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, you idiot? On your belly right now.”

He towered over the quivering, prone figure, circling around him like a wolf around his prey, then grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up off the floor.

“I’m gonna give you one chance to apologize.”

“I—I’m sorry, sir. It was an accident.”

“You call that an apology?”

He grabbed Gast by the throat with his metal hand and yanked him up to his knees.

“Loki, what do you think we should do with this pathetic excuse for a slave?”

With James still holding Gast by the throat, Loki curled around his other arm and kissed him deeply, then whispered against his cheek loudly enough for Gast to hear.

 _“I_ think...I think I want to see that mouth wrapped around your cock and watch you choke him on it.”

Loki hoped he hadn’t guessed wrong on what James wanted to do to finish this, and the tension left his shoulders when he agreed.

“I think that’s a great fucking idea.”

He let go of Gast’s throat and leaned back on his elbows, and nearly laughed out loud at how fast his dick was in the slave’s mouth.Fortunately, Loki’s magic gave him the boost he needed, and it slowly engorged. But, really, it took Loki to get him where he needed to be, and Loki understood that, kissing him again and again, with little whispers in his ear in between.

“Just close your eyes and imagine it’s _my_ lips around that beautiful, thick cock. Mmm...delicious...you’re so hard...so close...I can smell it...taste it...about to fill my mouth with that superhuman cum. You know how much I love it. How much I love you.”

“ _Oh, God, Loki...fuck.”_

He grabbed Gast’s hair with his metal fist and pulled him forward until tears formed and muffled choking sounds were the only noises he could hear. It took a little effort, but with Loki’s mouth locked on his, he worked Gast’s head back and forth until he came.

“ _Jesus_...that was... _something_. I’m just not sure what.”

He released Gast’s hair and smiled down at him.

“Ok...better...apology accepted. Now, let’s see...”

He reached down and palmed the slave’s cock, which was so hard and so big, it startled him, but he recovered quickly.

“Yeah, go finish yourself off.”

“And, clean up after yourself,” Loki reminded him.

They pointedly avoided watching him as he scuttled off to the corner of the room to do what he was told, and James whispered to Loki.

“That was the most fucked-up sex I’ve ever had. I hope that’s all we need to do. Please tell me that’s all.”

“Yes, it should be. Now, we wait until tomorrow morning.”

Gast stood, carefully dressed, and walked back to them.

“Not bad, Soldier. You have balls. My handsome boy wasn’t wrong to bring you here. Now, go, and I’ll see you two in the morning.”

And, just like that, Grandmaster was back. Loki and James gathered their clothes and went back to his rooms with a nod toward Gast.

“Looking forward to it.”

Once they were alone in Loki’s quarters, James heaved a sigh of relief and Loki’s head fell against his shoulder.

“I think I need another shower, but gods, that was brilliant, James. In other circumstances, you’d have a hard time keeping me off you right now.”

He smiled and kissed Loki’s hair.

“Thanks. I love you, too.”

They sank into an exhausted sleep without showering. When James woke in the middle of the night crying Steve’s name, Loki pulled him to his chest, stroking his hair and whispering soothingly until he fell back asleep.

“It’s all right, James. We’ll get him back, I promise—my sworn oath. Whatever it takes.”

*****

A knock on their door from one of the staff woke them in the morning.

“Good morning, gentlemen. The Grandmaster would like to see you in his receiving room at your earliest convenience.”

When they’d showered, dressed, and made their way over, Grandmaster was waiting for them with a full breakfast buffet. They filled their plates and sat down, with James wolfing down his food so fast that Loki raised an eyebrow at him.

“What? I’m starving. Don’t you know by now that nothing kills my appetite?”

Grandmaster smiled beatifically and cleared his throat.

“I’m glad to see you enjoying my hospitality. So...on to business. I said I’d help you, and I keep my word. You need to find my brother Taneleer.”

“The Collector? Why do we need to find him?”

Loki worked to keep the alarm out of his voice.

“Eons ago, I traded the particular power you need for another more...useful one. But, he can do it. He has the skill, if you can offer him something he wants in return.”

James pushed away from the table, barely restraining himself from turning it over.

“You son-of-a-bitch. You let all that happen last night and you had no intention of keeping your word.”

“My dear boy, did you expect I could resist an invitation like that? I told you I could help you, and I’m helping you. You have no reason to be angry. No reason at all.”

“But, isn’t Tivan still here? I thought you had him. I _gifted_ him to you.”

“Oh, yes, that you did—all wrapped in a nice bow. But, we worked out an agreement not to try to destroy each other, and I sent him on his way. He’s back on Knowhere and I’d suggest you leave the Tesseract with me when you go talk to him. He still wants it, but he won’t fight me for it. I’ll keep it safe until you get back.”

Loki’s mind was racing, trying to unravel this. Gast had used them for his own ends, just as Loki should have known he would.

_I should’ve known it wouldn’t be simple. Nothing with him is simple._

“It’s all right, James. We can still save Steve. He’ll do it.”

“Goddam it, Loki...why didn’t you...never mind. What do we do now?”

“We take the ship through a different wormhole to Knowhere, and I make a deal with The Collector.”

A shiver of dread ran through him, because he was fairly certain he knew what The Collector would want if he couldn’t get the Tesseract. James knew, too, as soon as he realized who they were talking about.

“The Collector? The guy who sent Vanko after you? Fuck him.”

“We’re out of options, James. It’s either him or Thanos. We’ve come this far, so we may as well talk to him.”

“Well, shit.”

*****

Once they’d arrived on Knowhere, they had no trouble locating The Collector, as his penthouse estate was well-known, and they were ushered into his reception area by a humanoid-looking green being who towered over them by half a foot.

“Wait here. I shall announce you presence, Loki Odinson.”

In a few moments, The Collector, aka Taneleer Tivan, strolled into the room with a bemused expression on his face.

“You’re either very brave or very stupid, Loki, to come to me unarmed and accompanied only by one companion. What is it you seek?”

Loki choked down the panic that was making his pulse pound and replied as smoothly as possible.

“A boon, Tivan. We humbly request a favor.”

“A favor, after you kidnapped me and turned me over to my brother. That’s rich. I hope you have something worthwhile to offer in return.”

“Perhaps you might consider that, by taking you to your brother, I created an opportunity for you to work out your differences. You seem to be none the worse for it.”

“True, although I’m certain your intentions had nothing to do with me making peace with my brother.”

“You are perceptive, Tivan. They did not. I was simply trying to save my own skin. Not being truly immortal like you does spark some sense of self-preservation.”

“Well, you have my attention. What is it you want?”

Loki explained the situation in the same way he’d explained it to Grandmaster.

“You do know this comes with a price, and neither of you has offered me anything of equal value to the Tesseract,” The Collector asserted as he circled around Loki and James.

“We cannot offer anything of equal value to the Tesseract. Your brother is in possession of it and won’t give it up to you. You know that. But, perhapswe can discuss this in private?” Loki asked, glancing at James meaningfully.

James sighed and spread his hands open in acquiescence.

“Okay, Loki. You know him—I don’t. Take all the time you need.”

“Master is quite proud of his collection, and part of it is open to the public. Perhaps sir would care for a tour while he waits?” inquired the tall, green being as he turned to James.

He glanced at the door where Loki and Tivan had exited, then shrugged.

“Sure. Why not? Lead on, Stretch.”

Bucky was in awe of the sheer size of Tivan’s collection. Even the relatively small part available to the public was probably as big as a football field, and Stretch (whose real name was Huxley, he’d discovered) informed him that the private portion was at least twice that size. The Collector had an obsession, all right, and some of it was the stuff of nightmares. There were more than a few living creatures encased in the glass enclosures, and none of them looked to be what you’d call ‘happy.’

Huxley was a friendly and cheerful tour guide, though, which seemed completely inappropriate, considering the living exhibits and what he and Loki were here for, but he couldn’t help but kind of like the big, green guy.

“So, how long have you worked for The Collector?” Bucky asked.

“Oh, I do not work for him in the sense that I take payment. When I reached my Age Of Passage I was assigned to him as caretaker, as is the custom of my people. We are a race who believes that service to one of The Immortals is the highest calling one can have.”

“Wow. How long ago was that?”

“Oh, dear...by human reckoning? Maybe a thousand years, give or take.”

“Huh. You and Loki are about the same age, then. Do you like it? Are you happy here?”

“We do not experience happiness in the same way you mean. We feel...contentment and satisfaction...knowing our service is needed and valued. That is enough.”

As they made their way back to the reception area, Bucky was trying to be patient, but it wasn’t easy. What the hell could they be talking about for so long? He’d taken the nickel tour and two hours later they were _still_ in there. That was making him nervous and twitchy, and the fact that he’d seen living creatures in Tivan’s collection made it worse. Surely, Loki wouldn’t volunteer himself to be some sort of exhibit—would he? He _was_ one of a kind, being an Asgardian/Frost Giant/Mage, and that started Bucky’s thoughts down a dark path. But, when they finally emerged, it seemed that maybe they would get what they came for.

“Bring him to me.”

Loki teleported back to the Dynasty and retrieved Steve’s cold, stiff body, lay him gently on the floor, and they waited...watching, hopeful, hardly daring to believe this could be happening.

The Collector squatted, put both hands on Steve’s chest and, for a few breathless moments, nothing happened. And, then, against all odds and against everything that was rational, eight bullets expelled themselves from his body and he gasped.

Bucky and Loki were crying, holding him, hardly daring to breathe, waiting to see those precious blue eyes open again. Steve groaned, put a hand to his chest, and inhaled a deep breath as his eyes opened. He blinked in confusion, eyes darting around the room and finally resting on Bucky.

“Oh...Buck...hi...where am I? Where’s Loki?”

“I’m here, Steve. I’m right here,” he whispered from behind, cupping Steve’s cheek with his hand.

”Do you remember being shot?” asked Bucky.

Steve blinked a few more times, trying to focus as they helped him sit up.

“A couple—a man and a woman—I thought they wanted a selfie. I didn’t know they had guns until it was too late. But, how...? How am I alive? I remember...dying.”

He held up his hands and stared at them, then touched his chest again, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I took ten rounds. I felt them. I counted them. And, I’m not even in the hospital?”

They helped him stand and guided him to a long and ornate sofa. He seemed a little shaky on his feet for a second or two, but then almost immediately appeared completely normal—completely Steve.

“He’ll need food and drink soon, but otherwise he’s exactly as he was, physically and mentally,” pronounced The Collector.

“What does that mean?” Steve asked, confused, and then his gaze went back and forth between Loki and Tivan.

“This isn’t Earth, is it? You two did some magic thing together because there was too much damage for Loki’s spell alone to heal me.”

“You were...dead, Steve. You’re right—it _was_ ten shots...and they killed you. Loki and I took you from the morgue about a week ago and brought you here. This man brought you back,” Bucky explained, gesturing at Tivan and at the eight bullets on the floor.

Steve was taken aback for a few moments, but he understood. There was magic in this universe that he could never comprehend, but it was there, and Loki and Buck had made it happen for him.

“You _resurrected_ me. I—thank you—I didn’t know anyone besides Thanos could do that. But...who are you? Where are we? And, how can I ever repay you?”

Tivan locked eyes meaningfully with Loki, and the other two didn’t miss how Loki’s eyes immediately averted to the floor.

“Loki? What’s wrong? We have him _back_. Why do you look like someone just shot your dog?” asked Bucky, dread building inside him. Something wasn’t right—in fact, it was very, very wrong, and he had a pretty good idea what.

“I gave you my sworn oath, James, to do whatever it took. You don’t have to repay him, Steve. We...struck a deal that was mutually acceptable.”

Tivan turned to Steve and gave him a very slight bow.

“You two may take your ship and go home to Earth. The Asgardian and I have concluded our business.”

“Loki? What the hell is he talking about?”

“This man is The Collector, Steve. He’s Grandmaster’s brother—the one who sent Vanko after Loki to get the Tesseract. Loki, tell me you didn’t—“

“I didn’t promise him the Tesseract, James. He agreed to something...somewhat lesser.”

And, Bucky knew then what that something was.

“Loki, you can’t—did you do what I think you did? Trade yourself?”

Loki stood and faced the two of them, barely able to look at either for fear of collapsing into a quivering heap at their feet. This was bad enough without adding ‘pathetic coward’ to the mix, and he spoke the words he’d practiced in his head.

“Steve...I...I love you and James more than anyone I’ve ever known. You were always meant to be together—you said it yourself—and I was lucky enough to be part of that for a little while. But, I’ve always known I’d need to pay for the things I’ve done, and this is probably better than I deserve. It got _you_ back, so it was worth it.”

“Loki, I fucking hate it when you’re all cryptic, because it’s never anything good. I promised Tony we’d _all come_ _back_ alive. I promised DeWayne.”

“You can come back for him in a thousand years,” The Collector chimed in, as if it was nothing, which it was to him.

Loki lowered his head and felt his chest tightening. The words were so difficult—each one cost him a piece of himself, but he had to say them.

“I swore a thousand years of servitude in exchange for your life.”

“ _You what?_! _NO!_ No, you can’t do that. You might as well have left me dead if this is what it cost. I can’t accept this. You think Buck is gonna accept this?”

Bucky glared at Tivan with a depth of hatred he hadn’t felt in years—not since HYDRA.

“You know we can fight our way out of here. You can’t stop us.”

“He just raised the dead, James. I assure you he _can_ stop us—and, even if he didn’t, he can follow us to Earth anytime he wants. We can’t kill him and we can’t defeat him, even with all your strength, and Steve’s and mine. This is the only way.”

“It _can’t_ be the only way—it can’t. Damn it, Loki. We’re not just giving up and leaving you here.”

Steve’s jaw was set and his whole body quivered with anger, and Loki knew that look. He was about to do something stupid and would die all over again trying to fight, and James would, too. So, he understood what he had to do, no matter how much it hurt.

“Go home and spend what precious little time you mortals have together. I’ll still have more than half my life in front of me when I’ve paid this debt, and by the time I’m free, you’ll be nothing but a distant memory. Your faces will only be shadows and I won’t even remember your names. Just make a clean break now and spare me the pain of watching you grow old and die. I was a fool to think mortals and gods could be together. It can never work, so forget me as I’ll forget you.”

Loki turned and strode out of the room, resisting the nearly overwhelming urge to look back over his shoulder for one more glance, one last chance to see their faces. As soon as he stepped through the door, he collapsed against the wall, sliding to the floor and unable to stop the tears. James and Steve would live, even if his own future was an endless expanse of grey, like a fog stretched over the plains of Asgard. Rocking back and forth with his head between his knees, he couldn’t hear the voices in the next room over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears and his own sobbing.

Steve recoiled from Loki’s words as if he’d been punched—no, worse—it felt like one of those bullets hitting him in the chest, and he couldn’t form words—he couldn’t even make a sound.

So, there it was—The Mortality Question—the one they’d avoided talking about, because none of them had known the answer. Could it really be true that Loki thought of them as pets, to be loved and cared for, then outlived and forgotten over time? _No_. He refused to believe that, and Loki had an eidetic memory. He was trying to protect them and he must really think they couldn’t defeat the Collector for him to say something so hurtful.Being dead hadn’t dulled Steve’s mind so much he couldn’t see that. But, what could they do besides fight? Loki had outsmarted Grandmaster, so why couldn’t they outsmart his brother?

_Think, Rogers, think. There has to be something._

“What if...” he turned to Collector.

“What if we could bring you something in trade—something of equal value in exchange for his freedom?”

Tivan tilted his head to the side.

”I’m listening.”

Steve had no idea what that something might be, but it was a starting point, and he struggled for something to suggest. Bucky, however, blinked a few times, trying to see where Steve was going with this, and then a light went on in his head and he turned to Tivan, too.

“Look, I know you love Earth stuff, right? I saw a lot of Earth things in your collection. What if...we brought you a pair of humans—the most famous criminals on Earth—the most famous criminals in our entire solar system—maybe even our part of the galaxy? What if we could bring you the people who murdered Captain America?”

Steve stared at Bucky for a few moments, then shook his head tentatively, feeling a little lost.

“I don’t know...I don’t know if I can do that...”

”Are you fucking kidding me? Two murderers in exchange for Loki’s life with us? You’d let those two rot in prison on Earth, but not rot here? Get a grip, Steve.”

Bucky squared his shoulders, cracked his neck, and gave Tivan a stare that could wither plants.

“We can do it. Do you have any idea how famous Steve is? He’s Earth’s greatest hero, and by that I mean greatest hero ever in the entire history of Earth. Will you trade his assassins for Loki’s thousand years?”

“An intriguing offer. You’ve assuredly found my weak spot, as I _am_ something of a connoisseur of Earth and its history. Hmm...I did have plans for him...but I might consider a trade.”

“Then, consider it done. Can we see him before we leave?”

“No, I don’t think so. He’s made it clear he’s making a clean break with you, so why give him false hope in case you can’t keep your part of the bargain?”

Tivan nodded stiffly at them and waved them off, then strode through the same doorway Loki had, leaving them with Huxley.

“Fuck your master and the horse he rode up on, Stretch. He doesn’t deserve your loyalty. We’ll see you soon.”

“I shall cease breathing in anticipation of your next visit, Mr. Barnes. You are quite entertaining.”

“If that means you’re gonna hold your breath, go for it. I wouldn’t be surprised if you could actually do it.”

*****

“I guess it’s a damn good thing Loki insisted I learn to pilot this ship. We would’ve been in deep shit if we had to depend on _your_ flying skills, huh?” Bucky teased, trying to distract Steve from the internal dialogue he was obviously engrossed in. But, Steve barely reacted, almost as if he hadn’t really heard anything.

“Ok, bad joke. You know—you—airplane crash...”

“Yeah, you’re stinking hilarious. I can’t believe he did that—gave up a thousand years of his life—to bring me back.”

“Do you think there’s any doubt in his mind that you would’ve done the same for him?”

“That’s different. A fifth of my lifespan would mean I’d still get to see him again at some point. A thousand years means we’ll _never_ see him again. Did you buy his story about us being together and him forgetting our names?”

“About us being meant to be together, sure, but the rest was bullshit. A smokescreen to hide how much it hurt him, and probably to keep us from doing something stupid like fighting an Immortal on his own turf. I just wish we could’ve talked to him before we left, so he doesn’t think we’re just leaving him there. I’m sure that’s what Dickhead will try to make him believe, in order to get the most out of him. Whatever that is. What do you think he wants a thousand years of Loki for?”

“I’m scared to even think about it. Maybe just to mess with Grandmaster? We know how much he likes Loki.”

“Yeah, and you don’t know the half of it.”

Over the next several days Bucky explained the events of the previous week in as much detail as he could, stumbling a little on the scene at the morgue when they’d first seen Steve dead and covered in blood.

“I’m...sorry. I know that sounds trite, but it was the last thing in my mind before I...died. God, that’s so weird to say. I remember saying both your names and then ‘I’m sorry’ was all that came to me. I don’t actually know what I was sorry for—leaving you, maybe—because I finally had everything I wanted. And, now it’s gone. You know how much I love you—God, Buck, I _do_ —but I love him, too, and it doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

“Believe me, I get it. I once heard someone say ‘If you’re the sun, you can shine on more than one person at a time,’ and that’s how I see it. I’ve never felt one single pang of jealousy about what you two have, because I know what you and I have, and what Loki and I have, and what the three of us have. Well, except for that one time I found out you were in his playroom without me. I was definitely a little jealous then.”

He smiled wistfully and kissed Steve gently, wishing he could be unconditionally happy about having him back. He _was_ happy—ridiculously so—but there was a piece missing and that piece was Loki.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been three weeks since Steve and James had left—or at least, it was to him. The time dilation meant he wasn’t sure exactly what the differential was and how much time had passed on Earth. He should’ve paid more attention the previous times, but he hadn’t. He was anxious, uncertain, waiting for the other shoe to drop (the meaning of which James had once explained). Tivan had yet to ask anything of him and had left him alone for the most part, other than small talk, and he’d spent most of his time in his room reading and writing to pass the time. He’d never see James or Steve again, but, Thor would be there when this was over, and there was a lot he wanted to say to his brother, now that he had time to reflect.  
  
Sometimes, he’d wander through the vast collection of objects and creatures, both living and dead. He’d gotten to know Huxley, at least on a superficial level, and found him to be pleasant enough company to play cards or chess with, or even talk to occasionally about Steve and James.

But, he still had no solid idea what The Collector wanted from him, and that was worrisome. He’d agreed to what amounted to slavery by not insisting on any sort of boundaries, and that opened up all manner of unpleasant scenarios. The only things he’d outright refused to do were to help Tivan acquire the Tesseract or to kill people. Before Steve, that probably wouldn’t have been a hard limit, either, but it was now, and he smiled at that. Steve would be proud of that much, at least.

His nights had been fitful and restless, thinking about them and picturing what they were doing. He assumed they’d found the people who shot Steve and meted out justice, and the world was celebrating the return of its greatest hero. Were they settling in now as a superhero couple? Going to fundraisers and banquets? Were they fighting together now as the new Lethal Weapon to protect Earth? Gods, the lust that fighting alongside them stirred in him was overwhelming, and he yearned with all his heart to _be_ there.

And, the dreams...they were the best and the worst of his time here, so far. The vivid mix of memories and fantasies that woke him when he came in his sleep, panting and sweating, calling their names. They’d seem so real and he’d reach for one of them, only to open his eyes to find the bed empty and the sheets wet with cum. It was freshly painful each time, like losing them over and over again. He wanted the dreams to stop—needed them to stop—but needed them not to, because they were all he had left, now.

He’d been hurtful and cruel, and it had been necessary to keep them from starting a battle that could not be won, but to know they’d left believing he was washing his hands of them...that was more painful than he’d ever imagined. It was best for them to forget him and not suffer the same misery he did, and it wasn’t much longer until it became abundantly clear what Tivan wanted from him when Huxley knocked on his door one evening.

“Mr. Odinson, if you will accompany me, please? Master wishes to see you in his quarters forthwith.”

_Forthwith? Has he been hanging out with Asgardians?_

Loki knew his manner of speech was still more formal than most humans, but he’d grown comfortable enough with their style and idioms that this seemed hilariously outdated, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Forthwith. Of course, Huxley. Lead on.”

The Collector’s suite of rooms was far less grandiose than Grandmaster’s, but still ornate enough that it reminded him of Asgard, and Tivan was seated in a large chair that looked a lot like a throne. He did not invite Loki to sit.

“Odinson. I can’t have you distracted from your commitment to me and I don’t want you contacting or visiting them. Remember, I can reach them whenever I wish. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes, Tivan. I assure you I have no intention of attempting to contact or visit them. It’s best for everyone if they forget me.”

“Good. Because the first occasion has arisen for me to utilize your skills, and I need your full attention on this. You seem to have captured my brother’s attention easily enough, and I need you to do the same with someone else. Someone with whom I’m negotiating an important trade and who would be susceptible to your...talents...to soften him up for me.”

“In what way?”

The manner in which this had been presented already had his mind racing, and not in a good way.

“He’s a creature of very specific tastes, and has indicated he would be amenable to my offer if I could sweeten it a bit. Your unique abilities fit the bill.”

“Which unique abilities?”

“You seem to have no qualms about using sex to accomplish your own ends, as is clear with my brother. That, along with your ability to endure physical punishment and your ability to heal yourself, should make this a simple task for you.”

_Oh, gods..._

“You want me to be on the receiving end of very rough sex so you can close a deal.”

“Crassly put, but yes. You did swear an oath to do whatever I needed you to do, did you not?”

Loki swallowed hard and nodded. This was not at all what he’d anticipated, but he could do this. How bad could it be?

“I did. I won’t let you down. When?”

“He’ll be sending a transport for you in an hour and will return you here in two.”

So, an hour. He could stand anything for an hour. If Thanos had taught him nothing else, it was that he could _endure_ , so he turned to leave.

“Oh, and one more thing...he likes them clever and defiant. Makes it more entertaining for him. That should be easy enough for you, too.”

Loki nodded again and strode out of the room, not looking at Tivan. This was Thanos all over again and the numbness in his legs nearly betrayed him.

The “client,” someone named Bala, had sent the clothes he wanted Loki to wear, and they clearly sent the message that he wanted him to look like a costumed version of a gladiator from the Sakaar arena. All leather and straps (a lot of them), harness (unnecessary), and thick-soled boots that gave him an extra three inches of height (six-feet-five inches in American measurements—taller than Thor). Why? Was he expected to look imposing? To fight? _That_ , he was more than ready to do, right now.

But, as soon as he arrived via the transport vehicle, he was collared and cuffed with heavy, black chains and left to wait in the center of a large room, with little idea what to expect. A wooden table with two posts and metal rings attached, a low bench, two chairs, and not much else furnished the room. When Bala finally entered, Loki’s heart sank, because he recognized exactly what this was going to be. He was expected to put up enough of a fight that the client could justify beating him into submission before fucking him. This was more than rough sex—it was blood lust. He’d encountered people like this on Asgard, and he’d personally killed a man who had beaten and raped one of his valet’s daughters. But, here, he wouldn’t be allowed that luxury if he wanted to keep James and Steve safe, so he resigned himself to doing what he had to do.

The creature (man?) was seven-and-half feet tall and heavily-muscled, with mostly-human features. Dark red skin, thighs as thick as tree trunks encased in gold leather breeches, and a set of tentacles springing from his head that was braided into a long tail down his back. His hands were the size of dinner plates with fingers ending in talons that wouldn’t look out of place on a small dragon.

He circled appraisingly around Loki as if he were examining livestock at an auction—pulling at straps, squeezing his biceps and touching his hair, then finally cupping an ass-cheek with a massive hand.

“Not bad. Not bad at all. Quite handsome in exotic fashion, if one’s tastes run to lean and pale. Tivan tells me you’re Asgardian. Is that so?”

“I was once a Prince of Asgard, that it so. But, Asgard is no more.”

“That makes you a bit of a rarity, then, doesn’t it? I like rare finds.”

“I imagine it’s rare enough to find someone who even likes you, let alone wants to fuck you. That’s why Tivan had to send me, isn’t it?”

“Ha. So, Asgardians are either fearless or stupid, then.”

Loki scoffed, sighed, and rolled his eyes.

“Are we here to discuss my pedigree or can we get on with it?”

Bala’s hand shot out and a talon yanked him forward by the ring in the collar.

“Kneel, then, O Prince of Asgard.”

_Not for you, you ugly bastard._

“Make me, you overgrown octopus.”

The creature’s lips peeled back in a terrifying smile of pointed, yellow teeth and he back-handed Loki across the face so hard, his neck cracked and he flew backwards into the wall. But, he shook it off and ran the back of a hand across his bloody nose and mouth, and straightened back up to his feet. He laughed and spat blood on the floor between them.

“Is that all you’ve got, you tentacled freak? My mother could hit harder than that. But, then, she was a god, not an aborted bilgesnipe fetus.”

His wrists might be cuffed, but he could still throw a fireball, and he flung a small one straight into the creature’s torso. It exploded in a shower of sparks and the red man howled in pain, clutching his chest for a moment before lowering his head and charging. When the fireball barely slowed him down, Loki side-stepped and threw two illusions of himself into the center of the room, and it confused the man enough that he stopped in his tracks. That bought Loki time to summon a dagger and plant himself, making the “come on” motion with his other hand. Of course, this was a losing proposition, because The Collector would punish Steve and James if he didn’t honor the terms of the agreement, but he was not about to go down easy. If this freak wanted a fight, he’d get one.

“Oh, this is good. I’d heard Asgardians were tough. Let’s see if you measure up to the rumors,” Bala hissed, emphasizing the last “s” sound with his pointed teeth.

When he made a grab for the chain between Loki’s wrists, Loki spun under his arm and slashed across the broad thorax, leaving a deep cut, and the man yelped in surprise.

“That good enough for you?” Loki taunted through bloody teeth, feeling the battle lust now.

Strong as he was, his strength couldn’t match this man’s, but he was much faster, so he took a running step up onto Bala’s thigh and kicked him in the face as he spun away. Even with the weight of the heavy boot behind it, the kick barely made the red man stagger, but his nose was bleeding and Loki counted that as another win.

It went on that way for a few more minutes and they were both tiring, but Loki had managed not to get hit again. That is, until he got cocky. He did a wall run-up and flipped backwards to land square on the big man’s shoulders, the chain between his wrists around the thick throat, and pulled. But, Bala just crashed backwards to the floor, heaving all of his several hundred pounds on top of Loki, knocking the wind out of him and breaking three ribs. He grabbed the chain with both hands and rotated around to face Loki, who was still gasping for breath, and stood up.

“So, you think you can fight—what was your name again? Lukey?”

Loki struggled for enough breath to speak and was partially successful.

“Unchain me...and find out...what was it...Blowhard?”

“Enough foreplay, Asgardian. Time to show you who’s really in charge,” he muttered, dragging him toward the wooden table by the chain.

Loki grunted in pain as he was flung face-down on the wood and his ribs sent bolts of fire through him. He had time to make a little healing magic—enough he could draw breath without hurting, at least—but, he knew it would be a short respite.

Bala hooked the chain to one of the posts at the end of the table so Loki was bent over and stretched out across it, then shoved the foot-high bench under his feet. With him in the thick-soled boots, it made his ass the perfect height. This man had meticulously planned ahead, and that somehow made it worse, but Loki was not about to back down.

“Bad back? Can’t bend over that far?” Loki snapped at him, but the big man ignored him.

He strolled around to stand in front of Loki and pulled the chain tighter, stretching his arms until his shoulders ached. The size of the bulge in the big man’s breeches made Loki gulp in fear, but he was determined not to show it, so he went the opposite direction with another taunt.

“Can’t get it up unless somebody’s bleeding, huh? Ever wonder what that says about you?”

“No.”

He leaned over and hooked a talon under one of the leather straps and cut through it like butter while the front of his breeches pushed into Loki’s face. Slowly and methodically, enjoying every moment, he sliced through every strap until Loki’s back was completely bare, then laid both hands on him, tapping his talons against the pale skin.

“Pretty, pretty skin. It’ll look even better in a moment.”

Bala dug the talons in and Loki bit into his own biceps to stifle the scream as they dragged up his back all the way to his shoulders. The rivulets of blood trickling down his sides almost tickled. When the talons dug deep enough to scrape against bone, Loki browned out momentarily, vision hazy and blurred, but he still didn’t scream. He did manage to choke out a hoarse whisper, though.

_“Fuck you, you son of a dark-elf whore.”_

His only regret was that he couldn’t focus well enough to come up with something more imaginative. On Asgard, he’d been somewhat known for his creative swearing, but he couldn’t call any of it up right now.

“Oh, no, Asgardian. I’ll be the only one doing the fucking tonight.”

He opened his leather breeches and the monstrous cock sprung out in front of Loki’s face. It was the most daunting penis he’d ever seen—as big as a horse’s—and try though he might, he couldn’t form a single word. The sweat from his forehead dripped down to mix with the blood from his nose and ran onto his upper lip, and his mouth was so dry he licked it thirstily. He thought about the wounds on his back, but decided to save the healing magic for after Bala was finished. He might need all of it.

But, he’d also need to make lubrication. He doubted any would be provided for him any other way, except possibly his own blood, so he took care of that before the big man stepped back around behind him. At least this time he was more angry and determined than disbelieving and frightened—and he reminded himself that he was more experienced at this than anyone ought to be.

But, that didn’t mean there was no fear. When talons hooked into the top of his leather breeches and tore their way down, he couldn’t stifle a gasp, and felt the pounding of his pulse in in his ears. Having gone through this once almost made it worse, because he knew what was going to happen. He also knew this was going to be more painful and brutal than what the Boss and his henchman had put him through. 

“Beautiful!” Bala exclaimed, as he yanked the shredded breeches away and dragged his claws over Loki’s butt-cheeks and thighs.

“So I’ve been told. Asgard’s Ass, you know? That’s me.”

He sounded far more cocky than he felt, though. He grabbed hold of the chains and focused on breathing the same way he did when he meditated.

_Deep breaths; count seven in, hold three, five out. Relax your muscles. Unclench your teeth._

That was so much easier said than done, though, especially when he felt hands swipe over his back to gather blood and knew Bala was coating his dick with it. A moment of panic hit him at the thought of one of those taloned fingers probing inside him with his own blood.

“I—I can make my own lubrication. You don’t need to do anything.”

“I wasn’t going to, but good to know. _Ahh_...this is going to be great, don’t you think, Asgardian? But, maybe I’ll make you wait a little longer for it.”

He grabbed a handful of hair and slammed Loki’s head into the table, smashing a cheekbone, and he _did_ scream at that and nearly passed out. Bala pulled up a chair next to Loki’s face, sat down, and lit up a pipe with a foul-smelling scent.

His vision slowly came back into focus and it hurt to even blink or move. But, if he gave in now, this creature would destroy him, and he couldn't let that happen--could not let himself be broken--at least, not emotionally. As bad as it promised to be, he could handle the physical damage as long as he controlled his own mind.

"You know what this is?" the red man asked asked casually, inhaling deeply as he waited for Loki to recover enough to answer.

“Something else to help you get it up? Looks like you could use it.”

Although nothing could have been further from the truth. Bala was stroking the giant cock and it was already so hard it stood straight up, way too long and way too thick. Loki tried to turn his head so he wouldn’t have to look at it, but it hurt too much, so he closed his eyes instead.

“It’s called Chiba. It enhances sensation. Makes everything feel times ten. Take a puff.”

He held the pipe to Loki’s lips and Loki shook his head, but he knew there was no avoiding it. Maybe he could fake it, though, so he inhaled a small amount and held it in his mouth before exhaling. Bala just laughed and grabbed Loki’s hair again, twisting his face toward him.

“Take it or I’ll break your arms,” he threatened as he took a deep lungful of smoke, locked his mouth on Loki’s, and forced it into him.

It took a couple of minutes for the true panic to set in as he realized what was happening to him. The wounds on his back pulsed with pain now, and even the air from Bala’s breath across them was excruciating. The cuffs cut into his wrists like blades. His ribs, his nose, his lip, his cheek—they all throbbed with every heart beat, every breath, and his eyes watered and vision blurred in anguish. He couldn’t even focus his thoughts well enough to try to counteract the drug with a spell. Unless there was some component of magic, though, he should’ve been immune to its effects entirely, and confusion amplified the painful throbbing _everywhere_.

At least the effects were fading as his metabolism broke it down, but not nearly fast enough, and every second was an eternity of torment. He panted so heavily from the pain that his ribs were on fire again, too.

But, when the head of that giant cock pressed up against him, Loki nearly stopped breathing altogether, and when two taloned hands gripped his hips and steadily pulled him backwards, impaling him on it, all breath exploded out of him in a scream of unbearable agony.

_“NO...OH...FUCK...AH...”_

There were nothing but white flashes as the blazing pain inside him inched deeper and deeper. It was so intense, he bit his biceps again to keep from begging for mercy he knew would never come, and squeezed his eyes shut. That didn’t keep the tears from escaping, though, and he cursed himself.

_No. You will not let him see you cry._

It took nearly everything he had left to spit out one more taunt, and he knew it would make things even worse for him, but he was beyond caring.

“You—sick—fuck. Your _mother's_ \--dick--is harder than that."

“That so? Then, you’ll like this,” Bala growled, and shoved all the way in until his balls rested against Loki’s ass, then grabbed the collar and pulled, forcing his head backward and his back to arch.

“That’s it. You like that, don’t you? Such a whore for punishment.”

When he began to move in and out, harder, faster, it was like a hot poker in Loki’s gut and the tension on the collar cut off his air. He couldn’t reach his biceps to bite down, so he used the inside of his cheek instead, and groaned in agony with every thrust. It seemed to last forever, and he wondered if that was part of the effect of the smoke, too. But, he didn’t scream again, even when the gigantic cock swelled and pulsed inside him, forcing out what little breath he had left.

Dark spots formed in his peripheral vision and he knew he was bleeding internally, but he wouldn’t give in—wouldn’t give this beast the satisfaction of crying out again—and then, everything faded out. As the blackness enveloped him, he wondered if being killed by an alien horse cock would keep him out of Valhalla, or if this still counted as dying in a battle of sorts.

When he struggled back to consciousness, he was in the transport vehicle, naked except for the boots (he laughed a little hysterically at how ridiculous _that_ must look), back bleeding, cheekbone broken and eye swollen shut, and the coppery taste of his own blood filling his mouth. He was dimly aware of Huxley helping him stand up, half-carrying him as blood and cum ran down his thighs, and he stumbled to his room.

“Sir has lost a fair amount of blood. Do you need me to fetch you anything?”

“Water...and something strong to drink...anything with alcohol. A lot of it,” he barely managed to whisper, voice raspy and weak.

He collapsed onto the bed and gathered his thoughts enough to send healing magic to his cramping guts and his back, and cast a clean-up spell. Then, he drained a pitcher of water and a pitcher of whatever drink Huxley had found, and passed out again.

By the time he woke the next time, Huxley informed him he’d slept for twelve hours. His cheek and eye were nearly healed and the pain in his belly and ass was nearly gone, but he was still weak. He dragged himself to the bathroom, pissed blood, and did more healing magic while he stood under the hottest shower he could stand. The damage was repaired, but it would take a little more time to restore the lost blood. The healing spell had its limits, and it couldn’t actually _make_ blood to replace the lost volume. He dried off and fell into bed again, feeling much better, though—enough better, even, to be a little hungry—when Tivan appeared in the doorway and strolled into the room. A lump of fear caught in Loki’s throat and he couldn’t stop himself from babbling.

“I—I’m sorry. I just reacted. I shouldn’t have cut him and I didn’t last the whole hour. Please...don’t punish them. I’ll do better next time.”

Although he could barely imagine a next time. But, if he could just hang on until their natural human lives were over, then... _then_ he’d do everything in his power to escape. Whether that meant running for the rest of his life or dying, this would end. Fifty more years...

But, Tivan didn’t seem the least bit upset or angry with him—just the opposite, in fact.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. He not only accepted my offer, he wants to pay me for your services again. Said you were the most entertaining ‘partner’ he’d ever had. I think I’ve found your true calling, Odinson.”

The Collector smirked and walked away, and Loki’s appetite disappeared with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is having a really bad time right now. Let's hope things are going better for Bucky and Steve.


	4. Chapter 4

They managed to land in one piece, but it was an iffy proposition for a few moments, what with Bucky’s limited experience. Fortunately, landings and takeoffs were mostly automated, so he didn’t really have to do much except not interfere. Tony and Thor met them at the landing pad, waving and grinning, and Thor picked Steve up in a bear hug that would’ve crushed a lesser mortal.

“Steve, my friend! I had hoped they would succeed, but I wasn’t certain it was possible. It is truly a gift from Odin to have you back. Where is my brother?” Thor asked, glancing expectantly up the ramp. 

“Yeah, where’s Loki?” Tony followed up.

When neither Steve nor Bucky answered immediately, Thor nearly stumbled backwards and Tony searched their faces for a response. He didn’t like what he saw.

“WHERE is my brother?” Thor repeated.

“It’s a long story, but he’s alive and we can get him back,” Steve assured him. 

They explained (leaving out the details with Grandmaster, of course) as they made their way back to the living area and sat down. Tony handed them each a drink, waiting patiently for more information, unlike Thor. He was pacing, nearly beside himself, with questions pouring out of him as fast as they could answer, and Bucky fielded most of them.

“The short version is that we have to find the people who murdered Steve. We have no other choice if we want Loki back.” 

“We have a little info on the shooters, but not as much as we’d like. We know they were nine millimeter rounds—“

“I knew it,” Steve interrupted. “But, how did they hide suppressors in their pockets? That adds another five or six inches to the barrel length.”

“That technology is what we’re working on, and you aren’t gonna like it. Steve, we have the whole thing on video from two cameras in Central Park. Do you think you’re up to watching it?” Tony asked.

“Do we have to right this minute?” Bucky asked protectively, but Steve hesitated only a moment and then nodded.

“Hey, I’m alive, so yeah, I can handle it.”

“Ok, if you’re sure. FRIDAY, let’s see the videos of Captain America’s assassination.”

It wasn’t easy to watch, but they got through it. From two different angles, Steve saw himself approach the couple, and the slightly grainy videos jogged his memory of what they looked like. Both dishwater blond, middle-aged, fairly nondescript, except for one thing. The woman’s left leg was slightly off kilter, maybe shorter than the right, and she walked with a very slight limp. 

He forced himself to keep his eyes on the screen as seven rounds hit him dead center-mass and his body jerked and flailed like a puppet on meth. Then, he fell backwards and they kept shooting after he was already on the ground, but only three more rounds. He tried to be objective as an outsider would be, so why not empty the magazines? Did it mean something that they didn’t?

And, then, he was...dead...and the memory of his thoughts at those last moments almost made him stop watching. But, no, he couldn’t stop—wouldn’t stop until they found these evil bastards and got Loki back. He was a little surprised at how easy it was to forget American justice and think only of Loki, and it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it might. The only thing that mattered was getting Loki back, and he’d do whatever it took to make that happen. 

The couple slowly turned and walked away, not hurrying or drawing attention to themselves, and two other men joined them. They walked out of the camera’s range as a group while others were running toward Steve. One of the men didn’t trigger anything, but the other...

“Holy shit, Steve! The blond guy—we’ve seen him before—St. Petersburg.”

“Yeah, we have. He was wearing a white coat, and I thought we killed him.”

“I was hoping you’d know him. He’s the only one we’ve identified. It wasn’t easy to track him down, and we haven’t found him yet, but we know who he is. Dr. Peter Albrecht. His grandfather was one of the original members of HYDRA. I told you you weren’t gonna like it,” Tony reiterated.

“HYDRA? Are you serious? What do they have to do with religious fundamentalists?”Bucky asked, incredulous.

“We don’t know yet, but they’re connected somehow, and we’re looking at the Church of Yahweh in Gospel. That vertical fish on the jackets is their symbol. They’re one of the most militant religious groups out there, and they believe all homosexuals should be put to death by stoning. But, I imagine they figured out stoning wouldn’t kill Steve.”

Thor had been silent during all of this, as he’d seen the videos already, but he put a massive hand on Steve’s shoulder and squeezed affectionately.

“It’s a lot to take in, and I’ve only recently been apprised of who HYDRA is. Perhaps you should eat, rest, and we’ll continue this on the morrow. We will find them and we will bring my brother back.”

They ordered Chinese, wolfed down their food, then Tony and Thor left them to themselves to make whatever they could of Steve’s rather subdued homecoming. 

“HYDRA. Damn. I really thought they’d gone forever. What the hell could they want with some crackpot religious group, though?” Steve asked, almost to himself.

“Maybe it’s as simple as a mutual goal of taking out Captain America. We know why the Church of Yahweh in Gospel wanted you dead and you were always HYDRA’s Enemy Number One. Maybe they decided to use the church to do it. Simple, vicious homophobia—no suspicion of other motives to make anyone look any further. Otherwise, why would the shooters have those fish on their jackets? It’s a little obvious, don’t you think?”

When they went to bed, it wasn’t the night Bucky had hoped Steve’s first night back would be, but it was still Steve. He was there—warm and alive, and it was good just to touch him, to hold him. They hadn’t done much other than sleep in the same bed on the way home, because they’d both been too depressed. Sex didn’t even seem appropriate or appealing right now, but just laying there naked, skin-to-skin, was comforting, and Bucky couldn’t stop staring at him. All those little pieces of him that he loved and thought he’d never see again—the unruly lock of hair; the full, pink lips; those damn eyelashes—and James’ eyes grew shiny with emotion.

“Two weeks ago, Loki and I got drunk and sat in our bed staring at your last text and listening to the music you were listening to when you got shot. I thought my life was over, Steve. And, Loki...he blamed himself, of course, for us not going with you on that run.”

“This is so strange. I was just—dead. Not here. Not aware of any of this emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on. Like I was asleep and just woke up. It must’ve been tough on everyone.”

“I think maybe Loki took it even worse than I did, if that’s possible. Before I suggested trying Grandmaster, he was ready to turn himself over to Thanos in exchange for your life.”’

“Jesus, Buck...I don’t even know what to say to that. I’m glad you talked some sense into him, but he still traded a  _thousand years_.  I can hardly wrap my mind around it.”

“God, Steve, you have no idea how bad it was. The whole world thinks you’re dead now. We have so much to figure out.”

“Well, I promise you one thing—Loki’s coming home.”

Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky, kissed him good-night, and held him while he slept, but his thoughts were churning and he couldn’t let go of it.

A thousand years. Loki gave up a thousand years—and Bucky had been ready to die fighting. Would he have done any less for either of them? He knew the answer was no, but it still made his breath stutter to think what they’d done and what they would’ve done—for _him_. He fell asleep holding Buck so close he could smell the superhuman scent Loki was always talking about, now that he knew what it was. Loki was right about one thing—he and Bucky  were meant to be together—but he was wrong about the other thing. They weren’t meant to be together without  _him_. 

*****

The next morning after breakfast, Tony called them in for a briefing. Thor was already there, a cup of some green, vile-smelling liquid in his hand, and he raised it at them in greeting and sat down, waiting for Tony to start.

“Welcome back, Captain Rogers. I never thought I’d miss your smiling face so much. But, I think it goes without saying that we don’t let on you’re alive. If everyone still thinks you’re dead, that gives us a huge advantage. The grieving world will just have to grieve a little longer. But, unfortunately, not having Loki is a huge disadvantage, because we were counting on his shapeshifter skills to infiltrate this church.”

“I agree we shouldn’t tell anyone yet, either about me or where Loki is. He’s gone off the radar often enough before that I don’t think anyone will find that suspicious.”

“Yeah, and at this point, we could both disappear for awhile. Everyone would understand we’re grieving. I wish we could tell DeWayne, though,” sighed Bucky.

“DeWayne? You mentioned him before. Who is that?” Steve asked.

“Yeah...the morgue attendant that was assigned to your body. He was kind of a mess about it, too. Turned out you’d been a hero to him for years, and he knew Loki and I were on our way to try to bring you back. But, now that HYDRA’s involved, I think it might put him in danger if he knew you’re alive.”

“Once we’re done with this, you can throw him a party, OK?” Tony snapped, slightly annoyed at the distraction. 

“For now, back to business. Natasha, Thor, Clint, and Bruce are the only ones who know right now. I told them last night. Clint’s still kind of retired and Bruce is on some research project at CERN, so they’re available if we need them, but I’d rather not involve them unless we have to. Bruce is a little too well-known and Clint...would help if we asked, but he’s still not Loki’s biggest fan.” 

“Fair enough,” agreed Steve, although he made a mental note to speak to Clint. He, more than anyone except Bucky, should understand how being mind-controlled and abused might affect someone, and he didn’t think Clint knew how much those things applied to Loki, too. 

“There are two potential hot spots to start with, according to Natasha. She’s spent the past week tracking down everything she could on The Church of Yahweh in Gospel. There are a few violent deaths of gay and trans men that they’re suspected in, but there’s no hard evidence. The headquarters is in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and there’s a small town called Janesville about fifty miles away that has had some unusual activity. There’s been a sudden influx of people in the days since Steve’s death.

The other spot is near Edmonton, Alberta. There’s a cave system there that was a HYDRA base way back in the day—the only one in North America, as far as we know. It appears to be abandoned, but it’s worth checking out. The closest town to it is Alden. 

Give Natasha another week to give us as much intel as possible, and then we’ll move in for a really close look. We can’t afford to spook these people and make the murderers disappear for good. We have to be patient.

Remember, this’ll be reconnaissance, nothing more. Look around town, get a feel for the overall vibe to see if there’s anything suspicious, and come back so we can make a plan. Keep your heads down and your profiles low. It might even be best to separate. Steve, you’ll be easier to disguise since no one’s looking for you and you have a week’s worth of beard now, and if someone recognizes Barnes, well...you won’t be with him.”

“I’ll take Canada. It’s still cool enough up there at night that I won’t look out of place in a hoodie and gloves,” suggested Bucky.

“I guess I’ll take Tulsa, since I’m such a midwestern kind of guy,” Steve chuckled. 

They spent the following week anxiously waiting for time to pass and watching the news, sparring, and making plans for when Loki came home. The media had been told Captain America had been cremated in a private service and that Mr. Barnes and Mr. Odinson had asked the public to respect their privacy in this difficult time—standard protocol. Almost every day there was a memorial service somewhere, and most people seemed to accept the fact that Loki and Bucky had been his significant others. Steve was so overtaken with emotion after one story that he tucked into Bucky’s shoulder and nearly cried.

“God, what a mess this is. I’m not sure how we fix this. But, at least not everyone hated me, after all.”

Bucky kissed his hair and pulled him in close, shaking his head gently.

“No, Steve, of course they didn’t. You were the greatest hero America’s ever known. They loved you. They still do.”

*****

A week later, Bucky checked into a little motel in the town of Alden and settled in. He’d already picked up the car Tony’d had waiting for him in Edmonton and had some dinner along the way. It was late and the local forecast called for a cool day tomorrow, so he’d be able to blend in while he wandered around town. He wasn’t thrilled about Steve being so far away after recent events, but it made sense. The longer this took, the colder the trail, and the faster they figured this out, the sooner Loki would be home. 

He stepped into the shower thinking about what that homecoming would look like with both Steve and Loki back, and a warm glow made its way down to his groin. He tried thinking about other things, but by the time he’d dried off and stretched out on the bed, the warmth still hadn’t gone away, so he called Steve. Steve picked up immediately, sounding like he’d been hoping for a call.

“Buck? Hi. I was just thinking about you. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, all good. Settled in for the night in this dumpy little motel. It kinda reminds me of some of the places we used to go. You?”

“Same. Tulsa seems like an okay place, and Tony’s got a car waiting for me to go check out Janesville in the morning. Are you...doing anything?” 

“Thinking about you, but it’s getting a little warm in here. Let me call you back.”

“Umm, ok...”

Less than a minute later, Steve’s Face Time app rang. When he picked up, Bucky was stretched out naked on the bed and the phone had been propped up on a table nearby. His metal hand was cupping his cock and balls, and Steve inhaled sharply.

“God, Buck, what are you trying to do to me? I already miss you and this isn’t helping.”

“No? I was thinking it might help a  _lot._ Set your phone up and take your clothes off. I want to see you.”

“Ok, but...” a vague guilty feeling washed over him as he undressed, moved the nightstand a little farther away and lay back down, positioning the phone as Bucky instructed.

“But, Loki...”

“Are you kidding me? You think he wants us to be celibate until he gets back? Close your eyes and describe what you’re doing—or better yet, I’ll tell you what to do. Find some lube or lotion or whatever and just listen to my voice.”

Steve found a tube of body lotion in the bathroom and lay down again. He closed his eyes, tried to forget the camera was there, and felt a little rush of warmth to his face and belly, thinking about Buck and Loki watching him. He loved to watch  them and knew they felt the same, so he just took a deep breath and nodded. He could let Buck take over— _wanted_ him to, in fact. It had been too long, and his body reminded him that their superhuman constitutions came with superhuman sex drives, too.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

He did love Buck’s voice. Maybe it didn’t have that magic, hypnotic thing that Loki’s did, but it was deep and sensual when he spoke softly like this.

“Good...now...you know how much he loves to suck your dick—that thick, gorgeous, perfect, superhero cock—America’s cock. Lotion up, touch yourself, and stroke it for me. Make it hard for me.”

Steve focused on one of the times he’d done this for Loki—the night he’d sketched him at the house in the Black Forest—and a surge of blood rushed into him. 

_Oh...God, yes...that night.._.

He’d been so unsure of himself, so uncertain of who he was and what he wanted, and Loki had helped him see himself the way he and Bucky did—through the lens of lust and love—and everything changed that night. The night he’d been there to take control when Loki’d needed it, and it made his skin hot and blood rush to his cock.

He squirted lotion into one hand, then circled a thumb and forefinger around the base, watching it stand up stiff already. When he wrapped his other hand around it, he closed his eyes and moaned softly at the smooth, silky sensation. 

“Mmm...yeah, that’s it...show me how big and hard you can get. God, I love your cock, Steve. I love to watch you.”

Steve’s eyes were still closed, and his breath quickened as his hand started to move a little faster. The image in his head shifted to the night he’d put Bucky into sub space, and the memory of being buried deep inside him while Buck sucked Loki’s cock. He groaned and his pelvis lifted off the bed a little, thrusting up at the thought of Bucky so hot and tight around him. 

“Remember that first day at Loki’s, when I walked in on you two in the sauna? You were still tied up and Loki was straddling you. God, that was so hot, and I knew then I wanted the three of us to be together...open your eyes and look at me.”

He did, and saw Buck was so hard now, too, he had beads of pre-cum dripping from his slit. 

“This is what watching you does to me.”

Steve was riveted to the sight of Buck stroking himself, eyes fixed on the lens and lips parted. Bucky not only didn’t seem to mind the camera, he was playing to it, tongue flicking at his upper lip the way it did when he was really turned on. When he bit his lower lip and moaned, it sent another surge of blood to Steve’s dick, and he squeezed himself even tighter.

He shifted position to face the camera more and spread his knees apart. He was a little self-conscious at first, but the reaction on Bucky’s face was worth it, because it was pure lust. He let himself be swept away by it, looking into the camera over the tip of his erection and wishing Loki was there, too. He rubbed pre-cum around his slit, imagining Loki sucking him while Bucky kissed him. He licked and sucked the pre-cum off his thumb and fingers and spoke into the camera in a low whisper. 

“Loki...this...this is what’s waiting for you. I want you home—I want your mouth around me again. No one does it like you.”

“Jesus, Steve ...your balls are so big and full right now. Put a hand on them and tell me what you feel.”

Steve cupped them in his other hand and  _ oh...yes_ ...they were tight and heavy, and he moaned and arched his back, tensing his muscles for the camera. 

“Yes...God...so full...I wish you could feel them...and I’m dripping hard. I want to come.”

“And, I want you to—but not yet. Take yourself to the edge, but don’t go over it. I want to see you so hard you can’t stand it anymore, and then stop. Wait for me to tell you.”

Bucky was barely able to hold off his own orgasm, watching Steve respond to him so beautifully. God, he was so perfect...

Steve held his balls in one hand, with just the right amount of pressure, and the other moved faster on his cock now—oh,  _fuck_ ...he was so hard now, so sensitive, bringing himself closer and closer, and then—he stopped mid-stroke. Moaning, biting his lower lip, every muscle tense, eyes half-lidded and pupils blown big—and stared straight into the camera at Bucky.

“Ah...Buck...please.. .tell me to come. I want to come for you.”

Bucky was so hard just watching him, he could barely stand it. He was dripping, himself, and had to concentrate to stay in control. 

_Christ, what a sight he is._

The sheen of sweat on that big, muscular chest, panting, holding himself tight, eyes locked on the camera, begging to come.

“ Oh, God, yes.. .do it... _ come for me, Stevie. ” _

He tried to keep looking into the camera, looking at Buck, but it was too much...he couldn’t do it...his head slammed back into the pillow, every muscle contracting, his breath gone...curling into himself...and cum fountained into the air all over his belly, his chest, his hand.

_“AH...fuck...fuck_...”

He finally caught his breath and opened his eyes just in time to see Bucky’s head jerk back as his muscles convulsed and he came all over himself, too, moaning Steve’s name.

“Ah, Steve... _Steve_...I love you so fucking much...I love you...love you...” his voice trailed off as he sank back into the bed.

“I love you, too, Bucky Baby...I love you, too.” 

“Oh, God, Steve—that was beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you let go like that before when you touch yourself.”

“I guess maybe being dead lowered my inhibitions a little. I wish Loki’d been here, though. I know how much he likes to watch me and I really miss him.”

Bucky sat up, face close to the camera, and smiled slyly.

“Well, guess what? He’ll be able to see it soon, because I recorded the whole damn thing.”

He could swear he saw Steve’s face flush bright red, even at this distance.

“Oh, wow...did we just make a sex tape?”

“I think we did, Steve. Good thing these phones are secure, huh?”

Although...he was pretty sure Tony had remote access to anything on them, just like the night in the playroom. Loki’s kinky streak was rubbing off on him, apparently, and he chuckled to himself. Well...he had a pretty wide kinky streak of his own. Always had had where Steve was concerned.

“Good-night, Buck. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Damn right you will.”

*****

Steve drove into town and parked a few blocks away from the Church of Yahweh in Gospel, taking a last look at himself in the rear-view mirror. Baseball cap, sunglasses, and a short beard, along with a baggy t-shirt and oversized cargo shorts definitely did the trick. He almost didn’t recognize himself. He strolled around town and bought a couple of small items from one of the many mom-and-pop gift stores, including a book about the Church, written by one of the founders. That should make for interesting reading later. 

Another interesting thing—there were no black people, no Asians, and no Latinos anywhere in sight. Everyone he encountered was classic Northern European in features and coloring, and although he saw no overtly racist items in the gift stores, there was an overwhelming selection of Christian ones. He was thumbing through a rotating display of bumper stickers when a large table of different items all bearing the same phrase caught his eye, and he gasped loud enough for the store clerk to hear him.

The entire tabletop was covered in t-shirts, bumper stickers, posters, and crosses bearing the phrase ‘Rejoice, for the Lord has struck down Captain Queer.’

“Amazing, isn’t it? We started with just a few bumper stickers and they sold out so quickly that we made a few other things,” drawled the clerk, having sauntered over to his shoulder.

“Uh...yeah...amazing. I never would have expected this,” Steve responded, trying to mask his shock as surprise.

“Well, there are a lot of God-fearing folks around here, and we were pleased to see His justice meted out.”

Steve knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he couldn’t stop himself from asking a question.

“You think he deserved to die, even though he fought for America?”

“Yahweh has no tolerance for those who break His laws, even if they’ve done a few good things. His will is done.”

“I guess the people who killed him are heroes, then.”

“Absolutely. If they’re ever caught, they’ll be martyrs just as sure as the Apostle Peter, but I hope they never are. God willing.”

“God willing, yes. I’ll take one of each.”

“Terrific,” grinned the clerk, selecting one each and heading to the cash register.

“You know, there’s a special service on the Fourth of July at the Church of Yahweh to offer praise and pray for their protection. You should come. All are welcome.” 

_Yeah, I bet they are. Especially me._

“ The Fourth of July? Why that date?”

Steve choked down the tightness in his chest, because he knew the answer.

“Why, America’s birthday, of course, and Captain Queer’s, too. The ultimate irony, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, perfect. Maybe I’ll see you there.”

“God bless and safe journeys, stranger.”

It was all Steve could do not to run back to the car. Everything about this was so...so... _surreal._ They were having a special service on his birthday to celebrate his murder. He threw the bags into the trunk and took a few deep breaths, then walked back towards the church to have a look around. 

*****

Bucky was pretty unimpressed with Alden. It was everything boring he’d ever heard about small towns—lots of boarded up stores, one small movie theater, and a couple of gas stations—but, the people were nice. When he inquired at the gas station whether there was anything to see or do for someone on a road trip to see the countryside, several people mentioned Miller’s Cave. Huh. Well, if it had been the secret HYDRA base, it wasn’t much of a secret now. He checked his little tourist back pack to be sure he had everything—flashlight, night vision goggles, a bottle of water, a knife, and an energy bar—then followed the directions to the cave entrance. He was greeted by a ridiculously cheerful uniformed Park Ranger at a small kiosk.

“Hi, there, stranger. Interested in the tour?”

“Maybe. What’s the story with this place?”

“Mostly legends and tall tales. It’s a very large cave system, but most of it’s blocked off. I can give you the gist of it and then let you explore on your own. It’s safe—only one way in or out, unless you can get past the bars. It’s a good day for it, middle of the week and all. Hardly anyone comes here anymore, especially on weekdays,” Ranger Tim chuckled. 

He led the way through a reinforced entryway about the size of a set of double doors that opened to a steep walkway down and into a cave about a hundred feet high, and Bucky whistled through his teeth.

“Wow. I’d never have guessed this was here through that tiny little hole.”

“Right? And there are three other rooms just like this, all connected in kind of a straight line, then there’s the part you can’t go into. But, there are a couple of archeological digs in the last room you can look at. It’s well-lighted the whole way.” 

“So, what are the legends and tall tales?” Bucky asked casually.

“Oh, the usual...Big Foot used to live here, ghosts of dead miners, aliens and all that. There’s one that’s true, though, as far as I can tell. It was some sort of secret military base during World War Two. People have found a lot of shell casings and other odds and ends.”

“Huh. Ok, you mind if I have a look around, then?” 

“Feel free. I should probably get back out front. I lock up in an hour.”

As soon as the Ranger had gone, Bucky headed straight to the back of the cave, ducked through a doorway, and was met with another room about forty feet high. The third and fourth ones were similar, with a large archeological display in the last one, and beyond it he spotted the bars leading to the rest of the system. 

Ok, so he was only supposed to have a look around and report back, but he was so close to having an answer that he couldn’t resist. After all, this  _was_ just having a look around, he told himself as he pulled two steel bars apart far enough to squeeze through. He put on the night vision goggles and walked carefully into the darkness, studying the floor as he went. All along the tunnel walls there were old scrapes and gouges in the rock, but everything looked undisturbed. No footprints in the dust, no hint that anyone had been through here in a long, long time. A couple more large rooms opened up and there were a few holes a person could squeeze through, but again, undisturbed. So, after he’d walked a good fifteen minutes, he sighed and headed back to the entrance. This appeared to be a dead end, and he hoped Steve was having better luck. He pulled the bars back into place and left, thanking the Ranger and waving.

*****

Steve’s phone rang as he was walking to the church and he tried to look as casual as possible, but he was still tense from the encounter with the store clerk. 

“Hey, Jimmy, how’s it going?” he chirped, far too loudly and cheerfully, and winced at his own voice. 

“Do you remember about seventy-five years ago when I told you I’d put your scrawny ass over my knee if you called me that again?”

“Yeah, I remember. Do you remember me calling you that for another month?”

“I shoulda beat your ass for that, but I’m too nice a guy. Anyway, it looks like a dead end up here. Found the cave, and the locals all know it was a secret base, but I think it’s been abandoned for a long time. No sign of anything suspicious. What’ve you got?”

“Something, maybe. I’m gonna take a stroll around the church and then I’m out of here. I’ll call you in a little while.”

The church doors were open and Steve heard voices inside, so he slowed down and pretended to be studying the carvings and architecture. It actually was pretty impressive, and he guessed the building had to have been here at least a hundred years, probably way longer. He worked his way into the doorway and stepped inside, feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He’d been raised to always take his hat off indoors, especially in a house of worship, and he was torn between calling attention to himself for not doing that or calling attention to himself if he did. So, he stood there for a moment letting his eyes adjust while he listened as closely as he could. Maybe his hearing and vision weren’t Loki-good, but they were pretty damn sharp. 

In the middle of the center walkway, a group of three people was talking, seemingly friendly chit-chat as they discussed arrangements for the service on Sunday night. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he knew who the man talking was. His hair was darker, he was clean-shaven, and he wore glasses, but there was no doubt it was Dr. Peter Albrecht. 

Albrecht was intent on the person he was speaking to (an attractive blonde woman) and either didn’t know or didn’t care that someone was in the doorway, so Steve casually stepped back outside. He resumed studying the building again for a few moments before slipping away back to the car, and as soon as he was on the road back to Tulsa, he called Bucky.

“This has to be it, Buck. I saw him—Albrecht—inside the church. Let’s get back to New York.”

*****

“All right. Fourth of July. That means we have to be patient for another two weeks. We don’t have any reason to believe Loki’s in any danger, so don’t get stupid, you two,” Tony warned.

It was a long two weeks, but Natasha had been able to infiltrate the congregation as only she could, and had gotten some valuable intel. The church had apparently been used as part of the Underground Railroad before the Civil War and had a fairly extensive system of underground rooms and passages. Nat hadn’t gotten into the subterranean part, but she knew where the secret door to it was. So, by the time July Fourth came, Natasha, Tony, Steve, and Bucky were all there in disguise, ready to go. Thor was not happy to have to wait it out, but he understood it would be nearly impossible to disguise him, and they needed the element of surprise. 

Tony had lightened his hair to a medium brown, shaved off his beard, and wore horn-rimmed glasses along with a prosthetic nose he’d made himself and was quite proud of.

“Nice, Tony. You could pass as a college professor. Good job on the nose,” observed Natasha, lifting his chin with a finger and studying his face.

“Ok, it’s time. Let’s do this. I’m antsy as hell,” Steve barked at everyone, uncharacteristically nervous.

“We’ve got this, Steve. Take a deep breath and relax,” Bucky encouraged. 

There was enough of a crowd at the church that it was relatively easy to go unnoticed, and they sat in one of the rear pews, taking in everything and everyone around them. There was a big-screen TV at the front, but Dr. Albrecht was not in sight and Steve wondered if he was in the underground section. He certainly hoped so, and felt an overpowering urge to smash Albrecht’s face to a pulp.

The preachy narrative from the pastor was exactly what they’d expected, but it was still difficult to listen to. After a good fifteen minutes of praising the murderers and asking God for their protection, a video came up on the screen and the four of them were riveted to it. It was the couple, and Steve drew in a sharp breath. The background was a dark, stone room, possibly a basement or...the underground of this church itself, and his heart rate shot up. 

Are they really here, right below us? 

His eyes locked with Bucky’s and the two of them could barely restrain themselves until the end of the video. These people were acting as though they’d done the world a favor and were owed nothing less than adulation. Now that their faces were visible in HD, they were committed to memory and Bucky was ecstatic. He leaned over and whispered to the others.

“We’ve got these fuckers. We go as soon as the service is over, right?” 

Tony nodded and they waited what seemed an excruciatingly long time for this homophobic rant to be over. As soon as it was, the four of them approached the altar and Tony took the preacher by the arm. 

“So...Pastor Purity...where are they, these heroes? They wouldn’t be, say, standing under us right now, would they?”

He’d calculated that the good pastor would give it away with his eyes when surprised, and he did, glancing nervously at the floor. 

“What are you doing? Are you federal agents? You can’t just come in here without a warrant.” 

“No, and yes we can, because we aren’t federal agents. If your God really approves of what you did, I want no part of him. You and your God can fuck off straight to Hell and then come back and fuck off again for all eternity.”

He jerked his head sideways and said “GO.”

Steve and Bucky, who had both been quivering with anticipation like hounds on a scent waiting to be unleashed, took off at a sprint straight to the spot Nat had described. 

_Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war!_

Tony laughed inwardly at the Shakespeare quote, and almost pitied the poor fuckers at the other end of that. Almost.

They flung open the door, with Nat and Tony right behind them. Tony’s suit had encased him before he was even through the door, running tail in case anyone in the church decided to try to be a hero. 

They burst into a large underground room filled with a half-dozen men armed with AR-15s—but the men barely had time to raise them, having been taken completely by surprise.

Bucky laughed a little maniacally as he grabbed the barrel of one rifle and swung it at the holder, crushing his skull, and Steve just shoved the one pointed at him out of his way as he grabbed the second man by the throat. In less than a breath, all six were dead and Natasha was annoyed.

“Damn, guys. You didn’t save any for me.”

“Fine, Nat. You take point on the next room,” Bucky shot back.

The eight men in the next room were more prepared, so Natasha did a quick wall run-up before landing with her thighs around the second gunman’s neck and snapped it as she pointed his rifle at first one, then another. Two quick shots later, all three were dead. Bucky and Steve made fast work of the remaining five and this time Tony was annoyed.

“Come on, guys. I’m more than just a brilliant mind, here. I want some of this action, too.”

“Then lead on, Tony, but do it fast,” Steve urged with a sweep of his hand.

When Iron Man burst into the next room, he was met with a barrage of bullets from the five men standing in front of a closed door on the other side of the room.

“You Godless perverts! You’ll never catch them! They’re under Yahweh’s protection.”

The rounds ricocheted off Tony’s armor into the walls, and one buried itself in one of the men with ARs. As that one hit the floor, the others tried to fire again at Bucky and Steve, but they were too slow. Their necks or their spines were broken before they hit the wall, just from the force of the punches.

“GO!” Bucky yelled, kicking the door down so Steve could give chase. 

But, when he got to the end of the tunnel, the couple was gone—gone as if they’d never been there—and Steve’s eyes scanned the empty countryside.

“ _NO_! That’s impossible! Where the hell did they go?!” 

By the time he found the other exit, a trap door in the grass, an aircraft that looked a lot like a Quinjet was already out of reach, so high up it was barely a speck in the sky.

“Tony! Can you shoot it down? No, wait—don’t. We have to have them alive.”

Steve fell to his knees, eyes on the sky as the rest of them caught up, and the misery in his voice made Bucky’s chest hurt.

_“No...Loki...no...”_

_Shit shit shit._

“It’s all right, Steve. We’ll find them. Somehow. I promise.”

“It’s my fault, Buck. None of this would’ve happened if I hadn’t been so bullheaded about that run. You both wanted me to stay, but I went anyway. They’re gone and we’ll never find them now, and he’s stuck there for a thousand years. _A_ _thousand years_ _._ What have I done?”

Tears ran down his face and Bucky pulled Steve’s head into his belly and held on, needing to convince himself as much as Steve.

“That’s not true and you know it. We’ll find them. We will. Loki  _is_ coming home.”

But, that sounded like such an empty assurance and he knew it wouldn’t fool Steve, let alone himself, so he just held him as close as he could.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki is a wreck, Steve is a mess, and Bucky is the only one holding it together.

Loki had lost track of time. It didn’t seem to matter now, and the most important thing was just... enduring ...another day, another week, another month, until it came to an end. How sad was it that the word “endure” was such an important part of his vocabulary now? But, how would he even know? How  _could_ he know when James and Steve were both...gone...and he could make this pain go away? He hoped with all of what was left of his heart that they were, at least, all right and living the life they’d both imagined for so long. His dreams of them still came, but not as often, now, and he both feared and longed for the time when they didn’t come at all.The fresh torment each time of waking and finding them not there was still just as real, but it was almost worth it for those few moments of joy before the reality hit him. 

Tivan had rented him out to two other clients—trade partners—one of whom got off to doing as much physical damage as possible, and it took most of his magic just to survive it each time. He was certain Cimidex Honso would kill him if there were no consequences, and he supposed that was a very real possibility if Tivan were offered enough money or a tempting enough trade. Honso personified the worst of every species Loki had ever met, because he lived to inflict pain and suffering—that was all that mattered to him, other than  _the trade._

And, the other was a female of a species he knew nothing about, but she was worse than the men, even though the physical damage wasn’t as bad as that inflicted by Bala or Honso. He not only had to endure the physical abuse from her, but had to perform sexually as well. Had to get hard enough to fuck her as violently as she wanted and almost more than he was capable of. He wasn’t sure how many more times he could manage it, if his magic finally ran out before he had to get it up and do what needed to be done. 

He’d nearly grown immune to the brutality of it—it hardly mattered anymore how much it hurt—because pain was just a constant state of existence now. It had quickly reached the point where the three of them were demanding him once a week apiece, and each time he recovered it was to a slightly lesser level than before.

Wouldn’t death be preferable? He couldn’t outright kill himself, though, because he had no doubt Tivan would go after Steve and take back the resurrection if Loki used suicide as a way out of his contract. But, it would be so easy to just...not heal himself during or after a session, and let it happen—let it look like an accident, a misjudgment of how much damage he could take. 

No. He didn’t want to die. He had to figure out a way to make himself more valuable to Tivan than he was as a sex toy that could take a beating. But, how? His mind was starting to fail him, the worse the sessions got, because Huxley and his alcohol-infused tea were no match for the beating his psyche was taking, too. It was so hard to think, now that he’d fallen into an endless loop of dread, suffering, and desperate recovery over the past few weeks. The defiance and resilience that Bala had liked so much was nearly gone, and what then? Was the red beast an important enough client that Tivan would let him kill his slave/servant if he really wanted to? 

And, Bala was psychologically the worst, even though Honso did more physical damage. He’d gotten Loki to talk about Steve and James so he could use them to taunt him even more every time he’d force that giant horse cock inside him. He’d tried to resist, but the Chiba had eventually worn him down, and now Bala knew their names—knew how much they’d meant to him. 

Loki dragged himself out of bed, choked down the meal he didn’t want (but knew he needed), and headed to the shower again to steam before he collapsed into exhausted sleep for a day, until the next session started the cycle all over again. He stared at himself in the mirror—bruised, thin, hollow-cheeked, every scar he’d ever allowed to stay on his skin visible. He didn’t even have the strength to use a glamor to hide how haunted and ghostly he looked. Yggdrasil’s power was diminished here as it was on Sakaar, and it was more and more difficult to replenish himself to full strength each time. 

How long until he was used up and these ‘clients’ didn’t even want him anymore? Was  _that_ the way out, when Tivan let the highest bidder beat him to death or fuck him to death? It was starting to look like the best option, and he closed his eyes, letting the hot water on his battered body give him what comfort it could. 

He was shaken awake by Tivan the next morning, but...this wasn’t right...the sessions were supposed to be evenings, so he could have time to recover, and he was still bruised and stiff from the previous night.

“Honso wants you again. Says he has something special for you.”

Loki groaned, sat up in bed and ran a hand through his hair, staring at the floor.

“Honso. He’ll kill me eventually, you know that. What happens if I die—when one of them does so much damage I can’t recover?”

“You really haven’t guessed what happens? I bring you back, of course. You don’t get out of this contract with something so simple as death,” Tivan smiled wickedly. 

Of course, he should have guessed—but that was another sign of how poorly his mind was functioning, and he went numb, shuffling into the bathroom to steam and heal whatever more he could. There was no way out, now, and that knowledge crushed what little hope he’d had left. There was nothing he could do but endure it...fifty more years...and he was grateful the water was there to wash away the tears.

***** 

Another three weeks dragged by and Steve was nearly a zombie. He barely ate or slept and had shadows under his eyes, and Bucky had no idea what to do for him. The guilt was consuming him, and Bucky wondered if Steve had felt this helpless when they thought Loki was dead and he, himself, had been nearly suicidal. Probably, but Steve had been there with him every second to keep him going, and he wasn’t about to do any less.

“Too slow. I was too slow. One minute faster and we would’ve had them.”

“Eat your soup, Steve. You have to eat something.”

“What if we never find them? Then what? We have to give Tivan something else—something valuable. I know this sounds crazy, but hear me out, Buck. What if we traded Sylvie for Loki?”

Bucky stopped his construction of a turkey sandwich and sat down across from Steve, who wouldn’t quite look at him.

“Sylvie and The Collector together? Holy shit, Steve. I—I can’t imagine a more dangerous combination. Think about what could happen if Tivan can remove her collar or inactivate it.”

Steve shook his head, realizing what he’d just suggested.

“No, you’re right. That was dumb. I’m just trying to think of something else we might be able to offer him that he’d accept in trade. And, I’m not questioning your judgement, Buck, just trying to be sure we’ve covered everything. Are you certain about that HYDRA base in Canada? What if there was more to that cave system, and you just didn’t find the right part? We should go take another look.”

Bucky considered that, momentarily startled. He doubted that was the answer, but it wouldn’t hurt to double-check, would it? Especially since none of the other leads had turned up anything. They’d been wasting their time for the last three weeks, as far as he could tell.

“I’ll make you a deal, Steve. You eat this soup and a couple of sandwiches and I’ll talk to Tony about going back to Alden.”

Steve gave him a weak smile and nodded, then picked up the spoon and began to eat while Buck made the call.

“Hey, Tony. Can you get ahold of one of those Ground Penetrating Radar things? We want to have another look at that cave system in Alberta.”

“You’re asking  _me_ if I have access to cool technology? That’s not a bad idea. You can take one of my anonymousprivate jets to Edmonton with the GPR unit. Can’t very well fly in with a Quinjet and announce ourselves, can we? But, remember, same deal—you get intel, you get out and come back so we can plan. No heroics.”

“No heroics, Boss. Got it.”

*****

They’d rented a camper van in Edmonton in order to hide the GPR unit and driven to Alden looking like two people on a camping trip. If anyone recognized Bucky from his previous visit, it’d be easy enough to say he’d brought his boyfriend back with him to see Miller’s Cave. On the theory that more obvious is less obvious, they drove straight there, parked, and approached the entrance. Sure enough, Ranger Tim was manning the kiosk.

”Hey, there! Welcome back, stranger. What brings you back up here?”

“My boyfriend is kind of a World War Two history buff and I thought he’d like to see this. You mind if we camp here tonight? It’d just be parking the van. No tent, no fire.”

The Ranger waved at Steve and shrugged.

“Hi, there! Sure, why not? I was just about to lock up for the evening, but you guys can go on in tomorrow morning as soon as I get here. Ten o’clock.”

“Thanks. You Canadians really are the best,” Bucky grinned at him and watched until he locked the double doors at the cave entrance and drove away. 

As soon as he was gone, they called Tony, who walked them through the GPR set-up, and fired it up. 

“Ok, walk it around. That’s mostly granite around there, so you’ll get about fifteen meters of ground penetration and I’ve got a 3-D map here. Get as far into the cave as you can and let’s see what’s under it.”

Steve ripped the lock off the doors and they wheeled the unit in, walking it around the perimeters of each large room all the way to the back. Nothing but rock under them so far. 

“It has to be here. It has to. I know HYDRA and this has their stink all over it.”

“That’s kinda what I thought, too, but then nothing,” Bucky agreed.

Steve was shaking his head trying to understand, when Bucky strode to the bars at the rear of the cave. As soon as he started bending them, Steve joined him, and they made an opening big enough to get the unit through. When they’d gone about half the distance Bucky had the first time, Tony’s voice came over the comms. 

“Holy shit, Rogers. You were right. It’s right below you. A shaft about six feet wide going down about thirty feet and then off to the left. I can’t tell you too much more than that, unless you can get the unit off that narrow path.”

It wasn’t easy to find, but with their night vision goggles and Tony’s guidance, they found a trap door buried six inches under the pebbles and packed earth. It hadn’t been disturbed for a long time, so there must be another way in and out.

“Ok, guys, I think this is what we’ve been looking for, but don’t open it yet. There’s probably some sort of alarm just in case someone ever found it. Sit tight tonight and we’ll join you tomorrow. Thor, Natasha, and I will be there by noon.”

Bucky and Steve locked eyes and knew exactly what they were going to do, and it didn’t involve waiting. 

“Roger that, Tony. See you tomorrow and thank you.”

They turned off their comms and headed back to the van to suit up. There was no possible way they were waiting until tomorrow, and besides—Iron Man and Thor in narrow, underground passages? The only thing worse would be Hulk.Natasha would have been valuable, but they didn’t want to wait. 

They stowed the GPR unit back in the van and changed clothes, and Steve was silent as he suited up. This was it. The shooters would be there, along with who knew who else, and he didn’t care what he had to do to get them. If it meant killing everyone but them, so be it. And, this time he’d be in the Vibranium fiber suit with his shield and he’d be a damn lot harder to kill. So would Buck, now that he had the Vibranium fiber vest and tac pants Tony’d made him after he’d been taken down by bullets to the chest, too. Bucky seemed to have read his mind and was grinning like a wolf on a hunt as he checked his Glocks and extra magazines. It made him feel like Winter Soldier again, and that was ok, because tonight he  _was_ Winter Soldier again—ruthless, merciless, and on a mission.

”I can’t wait to see their faces when they see you’re alive. Too bad I probably won’t have time to take a photo.”

They opened the trap door ever-so-carefully, looking for wires or sensors that might set off a booby trap, but it seemed to be clean. The wooden ladder down was old and rotten, and they didn’t even bother with it, jumping straight to the ground and heading into the only passage it led to. It felt like old times again, and they worked together like they’d been doing it their whole lives, because they had. 

They’d gone nearly a quarter-mile before they could see an amber glow in front of them and turned off their NVG’s. At the end of the passage was another set of bars and beyond it was...

“Jackpot,” mouthed Bucky. 

Apparently, the old passage had been inactive for so long, it had been forgotten, and they were looking down about six feet into a cavern that had long ago been carved into a square of sorts. There were a few pieces of furniture and a stove, but that was about it. This whole set-up had been done in a hurry, and they’d probably brought the couple here as a back-up hideaway after their first had been found. There were only the couple sitting on their bunks and three armed guards with them, but there were two doorways to other rooms, so no telling how many people there actually were. In an ironic stroke of luck, there was Christian music playing loud enough to mask any noise they might make bending the bars, so they just set to it. 

As soon as there was enough room to get through, Bucky put a round through each guard’s forehead—well, hollow-point forty-five caliber took the tops of their heads off, more like—and they jumped to the ground. 

It happened so fast, the couple didn’t even scream until Steve had hold of each of their arms, and their screams cut short to shocked silence when they saw his face. 

“Told you. Priceless,” laughed Bucky, tossing Steve two sets of cuffs as he moved to cover the two doorways, one with each Glock. Steve cuffed the shell-shocked couple together, then to a bed railing. 

“Don’t look so surprised, you two. You remember the story of Jesus and the Resurrection, don’t you?” Bucky asked them, glancing over his shoulder. He was having a good time, and Steve just shook his head as Bucky continued, an evil grin spreading across his face.

“ I’d suggest you two Judases get down as low as you can, because resurrected Gay Jesus Captain America here and his gay Apostle are about to clear this temple of sinners.”

They not only had the advantage of surprise, but also a tactical one, because the doorways were the only way in, so it was a classic set-up. Bucky was easily one of the best shots in the world, and the bodies piled up, blocking the way even more when he could hit the person behind the one in the doorway, too. Steve usually carried a back-up sidearm, but in this case, he preferred to be up close and personal, and every man (and two women) who came through his door either got a shield to the face or a broken neck.

Finally, no more tried to come through, and they carefully pulled enough bodies clear to get through one of the doorways, leaving the other blocked. This was the dangerous part, because they had no idea what was beyond the doors, but it turned out it was more of the same. If this was really HYDRA, they’d gotten careless and sloppy, because they clearly hadn’t anticipated anything remotely like this. Both doorways led to the same big room carved out of the rock, and there was no one left alive by the time they were done. 

Steve stepped up to a set of double doors with Bucky covering him, and he carefully opened one to peer out into the night countryside. Putting on the NVG’s again, they scanned the whole area and saw no one, so they closed and locked the doors.

“OK, let’s get the fuck out of here,” Bucky suggested. 

Steve gagged the two prisoners and they went back the way they’d come in, hauling the terrified couple with them. 

“You know, we left a huge mess. I counted forty-two. What else were they planning here? That’s a lot of men to guard two people,” Steve wondered aloud as they made their way back, closing and covering the trap door behind them and straightening the bars. 

The other thing that bothered him was that Albrecht hadn’t been there—again. But, they had the entire trip back to Knowhere to chat with the couple, and he was looking forward to that. 

The only thing they couldn’t do was fix the lock on the front doors of Miller’s Cave. Ranger Tim would be left to wonder why they’d broken into an empty cave and then left. Would he think they had some sort of kink about making love in caves at night? Bucky chuckled to himself at that—it sounded like a fun kink to have—and, if they hadn’t been on such an important mission, he’d have been more than a little interested. 

They drove straight to the airport and the waiting pilot and flew back to New York, then went directly to the Dynasty without checking in with Tony until they were ready for takeoff. When Steve told him what they’d done, he had the reaction they’d expected and they turned their comms off. 

“Well, he didn’t pierce my eardrums, at least, but God, we owe Tony big-time, Buck. We keep leaving him our messes to clean up. Although, on the plus side, the messes we leave actually do clear some scum off the Earth.”

“Yeah, and the good news this time is that he doesn’t have to clean up anything. The whole base was secret, so there won’t be any public fallout to deal with. HYDRA, or whoever it was, will just have to clean up their own mess.”

“We should do something really nice for him when we get back. Take him out to dinner, send him flowers...ooh, I heard he has a new girlfriend. Maybe we could take them with us to Vanaheim.”

“Vanaheim? Where did that come from?”

“It was one of the things I was thinking about on that run—traveling—and Loki had said how beautiful it is. I’d like to see it, but on second thought, no Tony and new girlfriend. That should only be for us.” 

“I love the idea. Vanaheim was one of the places Loki and I talked about going after you died—after we’d avenged your death.”

“You were planning to leave Earth?”

“Yeah, after we killed all those fuckers. Without you to keep us here, why not? No reason to stay.”

Steve knew Bucky hadn’t intended to make him feel even more guilty by saying that, but he felt it, anyway. They would’ve given up everything they’d worked for and left Earth for  _him,_ and a lump formed in his throat. 

“God, Steve, we’re so close now. Another two weeks and he’ll be home.”

But, the itch in the back of Bucky’s mind wouldn’t leave him alone. Tivan hadn’t  _promised_ to trade Loki, he’d said he would  _consider_ it, and they didn’t know what he’d wanted him for. What if he refused to trade him? It might be smart to bring Grandmaster in on this, if he was willing. The three of them fighting an Immortal Elder on his own turf was probably still a really bad idea. 

Trying to pry information out of the couple was dazzlingly unproductive. They’d learned their names were Beth and Frank Wilder and they were staunch believers in the creed of the Church of Yahweh in Gospel—or had been, until they’d seen Steve alive again. But, like most true believers, they’d eventually managed to rationalize their way out of a gay Jesus resurrection, and finally convinced themselves that Steve had never really been dead. They still firmly believed all gay and trans people should be stoned to death, and went so far as to say the reason they’d failed to kill Steve was because they hadn’t stoned him as the Old Testament called for. They’d shot him instead and thus had gone against the will of Yahweh. 

Steve sighed, shook his head, and asked one last question, anyway, one he’d been wondering about since he’d seen the videos. 

“Ok, why only ten times? With high-capacity magazines, you could have each shot me seventeen times. Why didn’t you?”

“One for each of the Ten Commandments—because you not only worship a false God, you fornicate with him, too,” the woman sneered at him, and Bucky laughed out loud.

“You bet your ass we do. We fornicate every chance we get, and you’re gonna be able to think about that for a long, long time. Watch closely and get a really clear picture in your minds, so it doesn’t fade.”

He grabbed Steve and kissed him as deeply and passionately as he ever had in his life, one hand cupping his ass and pulling their pelvises in tight,just for extra emphasis.

“I mean, that wasn’t actually fornication, but if you want to watch that, I’m sure we can arrange it. I’m all about an audience these days.”


	6. Chapter 6

They stopped at Sakaar first, with prisoners in tow, figuring Grandmaster probably didn’t know about Loki and he likely wouldn’t be too happy about Tivan’s claim on him. As unlikely an ally as he was, they might need all the help they could get, so they took a chance.

When they told Gast what Loki had done to bring Steve back, he was shocked and angry, but far more with his brother than with Loki, because he took it as a personal insult.

“That conniving piece of cosmic schmutz. He did it just to annoy me because he knows how much Loki adores me, and it was a slap in the face. Of course, I’m coming with you.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at Steve.At least Gast’s little delusions put him on their side now, but it was good to remind themselves how his mind worked. Everything was about him, and it could be bad if they forgot that.

They took the Dynasty through the wormhole to Knowhere and left Gast on the ship to entertain himself with the prisoners until Bucky and Steve had more information on what was happening with Loki. Grandmaster would be the surprise ace in the hole if they needed it, but they didn’t want to chance his unpredictability unless they really had to.

They knocked on Tivan’s door and Huxley answered almost immediately, pleasant surprise flashing across his face as he recognized Bucky.

“Mr. Barnes! So good to see you again. I did not, in fact, hold my breath for the entire time. And, greetings to you, too, Captain Rogers. Glad to see you looking so well. Mr. Odinson has told me so much about both of you, I feel as if I know you personally.”

“Good to see you, too, Stretch. So, where is he? Where’s Loki?” asked Bucky, glancing around the room.

“Oh, I’m afraid he isn’t on the premises at the moment, sir. He’s servicing Mr. Bala again as per arrangement with Master. But, he should be home very soon. The hour is nearly up and I’ve been awaiting his arrival with tea and alcohol.”

“What do you mean ‘servicing’? What hour?”

“You’re welcome to wait here, sirs, while I fetch Master. I’m sure you have questions.”

Huxley bowed and exited the room, leaving them to exchange uneasy looks.

“What the fuck is happening here? It sounds like...like he’s pimping Loki out.”

“Yeah, it sounds bad, but maybe it’s not what we think.”

“ _Servicing_ people by the hour? How the hell else is it supposed to sound?”

They paced for another minute or two before Tivan sauntered through the doorway, nodding and looking a little uncomfortable. He summoned as much bravado as he could to greet his two unexpected callers, and made a mental note to speak to Huxley about who to allow in without consulting him first.

“Well, gentlemen, this truly _is_ fortunate timing, as Loki should be arriving back here momentarily after completing a job for me.”

On perfect cue, Huxley glided past them to open the door and step outside. When he returned, Loki’s left arm was draped heavily over his shoulders and Huxley was supporting his weight as his feet dragged the floor. He was barely conscious, head lolling to the side, bleeding from the nose, mouth, and wounds on his back and arms. Bruises covered much of his body, and there were deep.. _.what—claw marks?_...all over his torso and legs. He was naked except for a pair of heavy black boots and blood flowed down the insides of both thighs, mixing with long streaks of thick, yellowish liquid. He was so painfully thin, he reminded Steve of the Allied prisoners and concentration camp victims he and Bucky had seen during the war.

“ _What the—what the hell did you do to him, you filthy bastard?_ ”

Steve’s face contorted with rage and Bucky grabbed Tivan by the shirt, holding their faces close together as he spoke through clenched teeth.

”Stretch. What the hell happened to Loki?” he asked, not taking his eyes off The Collector.

“Master has arranged these sessions as part of Mr. Odinson’s terms of contract, but Mr. Bala’s sessions with Mr. Odinson have increased in intensity, and I fear the injuries are much worse this time. I’ve never seen him so unresponsive.”

“Fucking Christ, Tivan—you’re renting him out by the hour to get the shit beat out of him? And what else? Why?”

“It’s nothing he didn’t agree to. Since he’s able to heal his injuries so readily, it truly is an ideal situation. Nothing to be alarmed about.”

“ _Nothing to be_ —let me have him, Huxley.”

Steve stepped under Loki’s free arm, pulled it over his shoulders, and Loki let out a blood-curdling scream. The arm bent in directions and places arms weren’t meant to bend in, and Huxley glanced meaningfully at Steve.

“Please, Captain Rogers, step back and allow me. If sirs will follow me, I have some experience in helping Mr. Odinson by inflicting as little additional pain as possible,” Huxley stated matter-of-factly, as he carefully placed Loki on the bed.

Once he was arranged to Huxley’s satisfaction, Steve and Bucky both leaned in, petting his sweat-soaked hair and touching his undamaged cheek.

“Loki! Loki, it’s Steve. James and I are here. We’re getting you out of here.”

But, he wouldn’t open his eyes. He just shook his head “no” over and over.

“No...no... _please_...why are you doing this? I’ve done everything you asked... _everything_...don’t hurt them... _don’t_...”

And, then he was out again, which Steve figured was a good thing, except that he had to be conscious to cast a healing spell. Otherwise, it was just left to his own normal ability, which was only a little faster than theirs, and that might not be enough this time.

“Ok, we’re getting him out of here _now_ ,” he said decisively, and picked Loki up bridal-style. Bucky tore off a piece of sheet, carefully laid the damaged arm on top of Loki’s body and tied it against him with the strip of cloth.

“Okay, go. I’ve got this.”

Steve nodded and took off out the door, moving as fast as he could without jostling his precious cargo too much.

“Stretch, if you make one move to stop him, I’ll take your head off. Tivan, maybe I can’t kill you, but I’ll sure as fuck bet I can cripple you for awhile.”

“Where do you think you’re taking him? Our contract is still valid. He accepted the terms.”

“Did he know the terms included being beaten nearly to death on a regular basis?”

He probably hadn’t known, but Bucky also knew he probably would still have agreed to them, even if he had known. Damn Asgardian pig-headedness. He and Thor were peas in a pod on that and he wished Thor were here—a little back-up muscle wouldn’t be a bad thing right now. But, fuck it. He wasn’t about to back down from this shit-bag.

“We’re going back to the ship and then we’re getting the fuck out of here, you sick bastard.”

“No, you’re not. We have an agreement and I need him.”

Tivan stepped toward Bucky with what looked like some sort of weapon in his hand, and Bucky reacted without even thinking. In a split-second, he’d twisted it out of Tivan’s hand and had it aimed at The Collector’s chest while he backed out the door. Steve was already nearly out of sight, so Bucky just closed the door and jogged away toward him, catching up about a half-mile from the ship.

As soon as they ascended the ramp, the door opened and Grandmaster was standing there, staring at Loki helpless and aghast.

“I know. We didn’t expect this, either. Your brother is one sick son-of-a-bitch, you know that?” Steve asked, and pushed past him, carrying Loki directly to one of the numerous couches and laying him down as gently as possible.

“I mean, you’re weird and selfish and devious, but this...this is some next-level sadism,” Bucky snapped at Gast.

Grandmaster sat down next to Loki, clearly distraught, wringing his hands and not quite daring to touch the swollen face.

“No, no...my handsome boy...what did he do to you? He had no right. You’re mine, not his.”

Steve resisted the urge to argue that this wasn’t about him and that Loki didn’t belong to _either_ of them, but he bit his tongue. They might need Gast to deal with his brother.

Bucky was watching the exterior cameras to see if anyone was chasing them while Steve tended to Loki, and so far, nothing, but that might be deceiving. Even if they were allowed to leave, he knew Tivan’s reach extended a long way, but they’d just have to deal with that when it happened. First thing was to get Loki healed up enough he didn’t look like the loser in an arena match, so Steve held Loki’s face between his hands and tried talking to him again.

“Loki, it’s Steve. Can you hear me? We’re aboard the Dynasty and we’re getting you out of here. Can you wake up enough to cast a healing spell?”

There was no reaction at all, not even a muscle twitch. He lifted one eyelid and the eye under it was red—Frost Giant red—which was probably not good. Loki had mentioned how he’d reverted like that when he’d almost died on the Dark World. They had to get him the hell out of here—there was no possible way he could endure this treatment for a thousand years. Unless Tivan intended to resurrect him over and over, and... _oh, God_...Loki would never be free, even after he and Bucky were long gone. He had to get Gast to help them.

“Grandmaster, you have to deal with your brother if you ever want Loki to come back to you. You have to make him leave us and Earth alone, or Loki will never leave here—he made a sworn oath. He won’t break his word, and he’ll die here. You’ll be around in a thousand years, but your dynasty will die out without Loki to keep them alive. And, it looks like you’ll need them more than ever now, doesn’t it?”

Gast nodded in agreement and stood up, straightening his robes, his face determined.

“That miserable blob of a genetic accident will do what I tell him or there’ll be war.”

They decided Bucky would stay on board with Loki and Steve would go with Gast and take the prisoners to Tivan’s. Steve gently kissed Loki’s still form good-bye and touched Bucky’s arm.

“We’ll make him listen to reason—just—take care of Loki.”

“I will. See you soon.”

*****

Tivan was surprised, to say the least, to see his brother, and even more surprised to see him so visibly angry. Their little rivalry was usually much more nuanced and subtle. He eyed the two humans who were so frightened they were huddled together, crying as Steve handed them over. Tivan looked them over disdainfully and laughed.

”These? These are what you brought me to trade for Loki’s debt? You’re telling me these little mice murdered Captain America? The bullets are more impressive than they are and I already have them mounted. I have no use for such as these.”

“You’ll accept this trade and call his debt paid in full, Taneleer, or you _will_ regret it. There’s nowhere in this universe you can hide from me for long, and this place—your collection—will be nothing but space dust. I know you don’t want that,” Gast threatened.

Tivan had been condescending and smirking so far, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed, but his face fell when Gast mentioned his collection.

“I—no—all right, all right—I accept. Just don’t destroy anything. It’s taken me years to rebuild after that Thanos creature was here. Loki’s useful, but he doesn’t matter _that_ much. Not more than my collection.”

“Maybe not to you, you piece of space crap, but he matters to _us_. Now, what about the man who did that to him? Where is he?”

Tivan looked startled for a moment, then smiled and shook his head.

“Bala? Not a man, exactly—much more than that. I doubt even you could take him hand-to-hand, Captain, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Try me.”

Tivan shrugged and laughed.

“It’s your funeral, as they say. His obsession with Loki has put him into a great deal of debt to me. And, if he gets to kill you, so much the better—he’ll owe me even more. Be my guest.”

Gast narrowed his eyes at Steve and shot him a questioning look.

“Why are you being so foolish? You have what you came for.”

”No, I don’t. There’s one more thing I need. I’ll meet you back at the ship.”

*****

Steve boarded the transport and leaned back, closing his eyes. The anger and guilt had been building for weeks, and now... _now_ he had something to focus on. But, he knew he tended to be reckless when his temper got the better of him, and he wanted to be ice-cold for this—no mistakes. He intended on nothing less than killing this...this _monster_... as quickly and efficiently as possible and getting back to the ship. The sooner he got it done, the sooner they could leave and never come back to this Hell-hole. It never entered his mind that he couldn’t do it—he was Captain America and he didn’t lose fights. Especially not this one.

He arrived and knocked on the door, waiting anxiously for what seemed like an eternity.When it opened, he had to crane his neck to see the man’s face, he was so tall, and...were those _tentacles_ growing from his head instead of hair? They were moving and creepy as hell, but he forced himself to look away.

“You’re Bala? The one who’s been renting Loki by the hour?”

The huge, red being grinned and leaned against the door jamb, crossing his arms and looking Steve up and down.

“One of them. Why? Are you volunteering to take his place? You’re pleasing enough to look at, but I doubt you’d last ten minutes. Come back tomorrow. I’m...content, for the day.”

_One of them? There are more? God, Loki..._

“You’re ‘content.’ Meaning you’ve already beat him, tortured him, and raped him, so you’re done for the day,” Steve countered, not moving.

Bala started to shut the door, but Steve shoved it open, startling the big man.

“He’s half-dead right now because of you, because he traded himself for me. But, I’m here to do what he was never allowed to do _because of_ _me_. This is _all_ because of me, but that’s over. I’m here to kill you.”

Bala laughed out loud and stepped back, ushering Steve in.

“Ah, the boyfriend, then. Does he like you making him bleed when you fuck him, too? He wouldn’t keep coming back if he _didn’t_ like it, would he?” Bala taunted.

Steve was almost sorry he hadn’t brought a sidearm, because he would gladly have put a bullet through this man’s face right then. Bucky would do it in a heartbeat and not even blink, but that wasn’t his style. There was nothing like hand-to-hand—the up-close-and-personal satisfaction of tearing someone like this apart—and he was looking forward to this more than he had to anything in a long time.

“But, you’re only one of the boyfriends, aren’t you? Of course, a skilled and handsome whore like him would have more than one. Which one are you, again?”

Steve didn’t respond immediately because he knew he was being baited, and the resolve to be icy cold strengthened even more. He just stood there with fists clenching and unclenching until his breathing evened out and he knew exactly what to say.

“My name...my name is Steve. Steve Rogers. Remember it, because it’s the last name you’ll ever hear, and I want you to know who killed you.”

“Ah, yes... _Steve_...some sort of hero on whatever insignificant planet you’re from, in an insignificant galaxy. You’re the one he traded himself for—and I’m grateful to you for that, because he’s one of a kind. No one else has ever been able to take what _I_ can give him.”

Bala could see he was getting to him—the man was barely in control. So close to unleashed fury and fatal mistake. 

“I made him tell me about you once, when he was pumped full of Chiba and I’d broken all the bones in his hands one at a time, then strung him up from the ceiling and broke all the bones in his feet, too. Even his small bones like hands and feet were surprisingly hard to break. I had to shatter each one individually, and I paid for two hours that night, just to be sure it was done right. He kept saying your name and one other— _James_ —over and over, and it was the only time he ever cried during one of our little trysts. You should have seen him that night—so beautiful and broken—so magnificent and in so many pieces, physically and emotionally—my masterpiece.”

Steve’s heart was pounding, his breath coming in raspy gasps as he tried desperately to control the rising emotions. The rage nearly blinded him before he got a grip on it.

_Jesus God...please let that be a lie—some story he’s making up to get me to do something stupid—please._

But, based on what he’d just seen, it was probably true, wasn’t it?

“Tivan was right. You _are_ obsessed with him. _Why_? Because you couldn’t break him? Because you couldn’t make him say _your_ name?”

“Oh, I broke him, all right. More times and in more places than you can ever imagine, _Steve_. Even if you get him back, he’ll never be the same. Every time he looks at you, he’ll think of me and want what you can’t give him. He’s _my_ creature, now, and you‘ll never be enough.”

Just the fleeting image of what that might mean made Steve’s stomach churn and he nearly vomited.

_No...Loki’s unbreakable...he’ll be ok._

“Just shut up and fight me, you sick son-of-a-bitch. I’m gonna take you apart, then break your neck and laugh when I do it.”

Bala threw a roundhouse punch with his left hand and Steve blocked it, shocking the alien, then punched him in the gut. The big man took a step back, grinning at Steve even as he held a hand to his belly.

“So. A worthy successor to Loki, after all. Maybe I’ll bend you over that table and make him watch me take _you_ apart before I do it to him again.”

He made a grab for Steve’s throat, but he was too slow. Like Loki, this human was faster than he was, so he’d need to be careful and use his strength instead. Steve ducked out of the way easily, then landed an uppercut to the red man’s jaw, snapping his head back. Before he could recover, another punch connected with his nose, smashing it nearly flat and stunning him.

“Not used to someone who’s allowed to fight back, are you, big guy? Not so fun being on the receiving end of that, is it?”

He spun and kicked Bala in the head, sending him sprawling backwards to the floor, but he knew better than to try to grapple with him. That would be suicide, and he kicked him again, this time in the ribs. Nearly every fiber of his being wanted to keep going and just beat him to death while he was down, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. His sense of fair play got the better of him, and he let Bala struggle to his feet.

“Get up, you piece of _shit_. Are you afraid of me, yet? You should be. I’m the last person you’re ever gonna see.”

The big man swept his foot with one of his gigantic legs and Steve hit the ground hard, the wind knocked out of him. Before he could kip up, a foot connected to his ribs, and he heard them crack as what little air he had was driven out of him.It hurt too much to kip, but he managed to climb to his knees before another leg swung towards him, and he knew then he had him. No matter how big the opponent, the knee was still a weak spot. He grabbed the foot, stopped it dead about six inches from his face and twisted, the pain from his ribs almost preventing him from twisting it hard enough. But, he heard the man’s knee joint pop and rip apart and the scream that tore from his lungs was satisfyingly deafening.

“You’re a dead man, Bala. You know it now, don’t you? Or you could try begging me for mercy.”

Steve’s voice was low and rough. He saw the fear in the other man’s eyes and felt nothing but the primal ecstasy of the kill—the joy of ending this monster’s life with fear and pain. There were tears running down Bala’s cheeks as he tried to back away on one leg, the other dragging uselessly, and Steve took the chance of closing on him. He took two punches to the face that bloodied his nose and split his lip, but he barely noticed. He was so much faster, especially now, and danced behind the beast, grabbing a handful of tentacles with each hand and hanging on. The red man flung him in panicked circles around and around, smashing him into the wall more than once, but Steve’s grip never loosened. When Bala finally stopped, dizzy and gasping for breath, he twisted the giant’s head sideways with all his strength and then jerked backwards.

Bala screamed, his neck snapped, and he was dead before he fell, landing on top of Steve and cracking two more ribs.

“I promised you I’d break your neck, didn’t I, you sick bastard?”

He lay there panting, catching his breath, fire shooting through his chest every time he inhaled, but he smiled. Smiled and then laughed as the adrenaline pumped and he shoved the six-hundred-pound body off himself and lurched to his feet.

He stood over the giant, red corpse and a shiver of satisfaction ran through him even as pain turned every breath into a labored grunt, but it was worth every jolt of fire that shot through him. He’d rarely felt _good_ about killing someone, but this... _this_ was one of the exceptions. For the first time in his life, he had _liked_ it— _reveled_ in making the creature fear him—the satisfaction of seeing utter terror in his eyes. He’d _enjoyed_ killing this beast of a man with his bare hands, beating him, making him bleed—and that made him shiver in a different way. Loki might not ever be the same and now neither would he, because this creature had changed them both.

“I only wish you’d lasted longer, so I could’ve made you suffer more. And, damn you to Hell for making me want that.”

Not entirely certain why he did it, he ripped off one of Bala’s tentacles to take with him. Maybe he needed it to show Loki the monster was dead or maybe he needed it as a trophy. Either way, he needed it.

Holding his side with both hands, he stumbled out the door into the waiting vehicle, and gave instructions to the port where Dynasty was moored.

_That’s one. I’ll find the others someday, too, Loki, I promise._

*****

Bucky saw him coming as he exited the transport and met him at the door, relief mixed with exasperation on his face.

“You stupid, idiotic, _big_ _dumb fuck_. Gast told me where you went. Were you _trying_ to get yourself killed again?”

Steve flashed him a wide, beaming smile, still stooped over and holding his side, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. He winced a little from the pain of smiling, but it was more than worth it.

“Not even close. Can’t say the same for the other guy, though. I just wish I could see Tivan’s face when he finds out.”

He shuffled his way back to the couch Loki was on and gingerly sat down next to him, stretching out to get as comfortable as he could. Loki looked better, and Steve edged close enough to him to lay with their shoulders touching. Bucky had gotten an IV into him and had him on a drip to combat the shock, and he wasn’t nearly so pale. It wasn’t easy to tell, considering his normal skin color, but he knew Loki well enough to be able to see it. The boots were off and thrown into a corner, a blanket was pulled up to his armpits, and his mangled arm was splinted. When Steve lifted an eyelid, the iris under it was its normal blue-green.

“Good job, Dr. Barnes.”

“Basic field medicine. He can’t be that different from us, right? Not too hard, once you get past that Asgardian/Jotunn skin, but I went through three needles before I made it into a vein.”

Yes, Loki’s skin...a memory flashed into Steve’s mind about the first time he’d realized what that pale, satin skin did to him. Even with the blanket pulled up under his armpits, he could see some of the scars Loki had always taken great pains to hide, and a warm tightness spread through his chest. He’d feel vulnerable with them visible and Steve pulled the blanket up to cover them.

To Steve’s surprise, Gast came over with a wet towel and began to wipe the blood off his face, fussing like a nanny.

“You boys really are a _lot_ of trouble. Lucky for you you’re so interesting. I just finished cleaning Loki up, and now you come back like this, bleeding on things. You’re making a mess of my ship. Are you certain you killed him?”

“I broke his neck. By the time he hit the ground, his head was on backwards,” Steve assured him.

“Hmm. I’m sure I’ll hear about that, but no matter. If it annoys Taneleer, I’m all for it.”

“You know, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but thank you, Grandmaster. I don’t think Tivan would’ve given him up if you hadn’t been there. I’m sure Loki would have some weird thing to say about the Norns right now, but...thanks.”

“It was nothing, dear boy. I’ve actually grown quite fond of all of you,” he smirked and shot a leering look at Bucky, who returned it with a steely glare.

_Fucking great. Now he likes me, too._

Bucky set course for Sakaar and they were met with another entourage when they landed, two of whom tried to move Loki onto a gurney and wheel him into his quarters, but Steve and Bucky wouldn’t allow it. Buck had taped Steve’s ribs and he carried the IV bag while Bucky pushed the gurney, with Grandmaster leading the way. It was quite a little parade, and the walk was lined with people pointing and murmuring.

Three days later, it became even more clear how close Loki had come to dying, because even though he looked a little better every day, he was still unconscious. They took turns sitting with him, and Steve was holding Loki’s hand when he cleared his throat and touched Bucky’s arm as they were changing shifts at Loki’s side.

“Buck, I need to tell you something...and it’s bad. What Bala told me about what he’d done to Loki and what I did—what I felt when I killed him.”

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“He did things to Loki that might make him seem different—things I barely know how to talk about. He made Loki tell him about _us_ while he was being beaten and torn up and raped, and maybe somehow twisted it in Loki’s head. ‘He’s my creature now, and you’ll never be enough.’ I don’t know what he meant by that, but I can’t get it out of my mind. And, when I heard that, I wanted to make Bala suffer. I wanted him to hurt, to feel the same pain Loki did, and I _enjoyed_ killing him. I loved it. Made me feel better and more alive than I have in a long time, and now...it feels wrong, but I still love how it felt.”

Bucky sat down next to Steve, pulling his chin up and forcing him to look him in the eyes.

“It’s okay, Steve. You’re allowed to feel that sometimes. When someone deserves to die as much as Bala did, you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it. You’re too good of a man to turn into someone who just likes killing people, and I know that’s what you’re worried about. Erskine chose you because he knew you’d always be a good man, no matter how much power you have.”

Steve pulled him in with a hand on the back of the neck, touching their foreheads together, his eyes misty.

“Thanks, Buck. I think I needed to hear that.”

“But, I don’t know what to tell you about Loki. He’s tough and resilient and that’s part of what I fell in love with, originally. But, what Bala did to him...I don’t know...it might be more than he can handle. We’ll just have to wait and see what needs to be done. Whatever it takes, right? We got you back and we’ll get him back, too. Now, go get some rest and something to eat.”

He settled in, took Loki’s hand, and began to read aloud from one of the digital library books on the Dynasty’s Stark Pad.

“Neil Gaiman’s Norse Mythology. I figured you’d get a kick out of this.”

Two hours later, he was still reading when Loki’s fingers twitched. He stopped reading, gave Loki’s hand a squeeze, and they twitched again.

“Steve! Get in here! I think he’s waking up.”

Loki’s eyes opened momentarily, then slammed shut again; his head shook “no” over and over, and his fingers curled into the sheets hard enough to turn white. He tried to speak, but wasn’t making any sense—he just sounded confused and nearly hysterical.

“ _No, no, no...please...you’re not real. Can’t be real. But, please don’t leave me. Don’t go.”_

His breathing was rapid, erratic, panicked, and they each gripped a shoulder firmly and held him down to keep him from flailing.

“Loki, listen to me. It’s James. You’re safe.”

“ _No_... _never safe._ Only in dreams.”

“We’re not dreams. We’re here. Please, open your eyes.”

“If I open my eyes, you’ll be gone. _Please_. _..don’t leave me._ I’ll die if you leave me this time,” he whispered as if someone might overhear, voice desperate and tears running down his temples into his hair.

“If we’re only dreams, would you feel this?”

Bucky kissed his cheek and ran his fingers gently through the matted, black hair. Steve took his other hand, the one in the splint, stroked his palm, and Loki’s breathing slowed.

“If I open my eyes, you’ll still be here?”

“I promise we’ll be here. Bala’s dead, Loki. I killed him and you never have to go back there,” said Steve, his voice husky and nearly breaking with emotion.

Loki’s eyes opened and blinked hard, trying to focus, then darted between the two of them.

“You killed him? You killed Bala? What about Tivan?”

“We found the people who shot Steve, and Gast helped us convince Tivan to trade them for you.”

“ _Trade_ me? He _let_ me leave?”

“Yes. Your debt is paid in full. You’re going home— _we’re_ going home.”

Loki tried to sit up and groaned, falling back down, sobbing uncontrollably.

“I didn’t think—I thought—you could never come back. Oh, dear gods...it _hurts_...everything hurts so much.”

“Do you think you can cast a healing spell now? You’ve been mending, but you need a spell.”

He nodded and closed his eyes again, concentrating on the pain in his gut and arm, and within a few minutes, the throbbing was gone. He could breathe again, but he was tired...so tired...and his eyelids fluttered.

“Sleep, Loki. It’s ok. We’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Please, don’t let go...until I’m asleep?”

“Not even while you sleep. Sworn oath,” Steve emphasized, squeezing the splinted hand softly.

“You came back...”

“Of course we came back. I love you, Loki. James loves you, and you have to show us Vanaheim,” Steve whispered.

“Mm... _Vanaheim_...”

Loki sighed deeply, smiled, and fell into a restful sleep for the first time in many weeks.

“We’re going home, Loki,” Bucky said, stroking his hair as Steve kissed him.

“Home.”


End file.
